


The Devil You Know

by KallMeKMK



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: F/M, Hockey, NHL, NHL RPF, New Jersey Devils, New Jersey devils rpf, plus sized
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:01:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 53,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25540249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KallMeKMK/pseuds/KallMeKMK
Summary: Jen is really happy for her sister Luci and her ridiculously hot tree of a boyfriend, Mac. Now she’s photographing New Jersey Devils special events and meeting her favorite players, but it’s all a little bit of a letdown until Miles Wood rear-ends her in a traffic jam.
Relationships: Miles Wood x OFC, Miles Wood/OFC
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

It was August in New Jersey, which meant it was 95 degrees and there was a hurricane traveling up the coast so it was 110% humidity. You could eat the air with a fork and since I insisted on driving my Granny Lucille’s 1985 Volvo 240 station wagon that didn’t currently have air con, Deke and I were melting. 

There must have been an accident because the freeway came to a crawl and, while the heat and humidity were barely tolerable with air moving throughout the vehicle, it was insufferable on the hot pavement with the exhaust of a million cars.

I felt the voice more than I heard it.  **Oh dear.** I glanced in the rearview mirror and I swore I saw Granny L sitting in the middle seat with a hand on Deke’s narrow head. That was until she disappeared and all I saw was the grill of fancy Range Rover bearing down on us. 

People like to commend old cars for “being made out of steel” and all kinds of ridiculous things. But the fact of the matter is that modern cars are meant to crumple in very specific ways to absorb the kinetic energy of a crash while protecting the people inside. One can’t really argue with Newton’s Third Law of Motion or air bags.

I took my foot off the brake and the big SUV smashed right into the back of Granny’s old Volvo. My head smacked against the steering wheel and I jerked hard against the seatbelt. I must have blacked out, when I came to all I thought was, “fuck, that is going to leave a mark. 

“Holy shit, are you ok? I’m so sorry!”

I held a hand up to my head and my fingers came away with blood on them. Thank god the bandana I had tied around my hair this morning was also red.

“Are you ok?” 

I finally looked at the voice that seemed to be talking to me through the open window. “That depends, are you supposed to be Miles Wood?”

The guy gave a wry chuckle, “Yes, actually.”

“Cool… then I’m ok I think. Just a bump on the head. OH MY GOD DEKE!”

I tried to turn in my seat but the belt was locked in place. “DEKE!” I struggled against it and it seemed to get even tighter. “DEKE!”

He had his car harness that attached to the seatbelt. He should have been ok, but I was worried about his stupid dumb long ass legs that were the actual width of toothpicks.

“Miles! Check Deke!”

“Mac’s dog?”

“My sister’s dog… he’s in the back!”

Miles grabbed the handle of the back door and it just fell off in his hand, so he reached through the open window and opened it from the inside. I was fighting against the seatbelt which kept getting tighter and was now holding me flat against the seat. I met Miles’ stupidly pretty eyes in the rearview mirror. “Is he ok!? Please tell me he’s ok. My sister would kill me if anything happened to him.”

I couldn’t see his hands but I heard the buckles on Deke’s little safety harness click open and he popped up with his tongue lolling out. “OH THANK GOD.”

“Since I’m the one that hit you, I’m pretty sure Mac would have killed me.”

I stopped struggling against the seatbelt and finally just sagged against it in defeat. “What happened? How many cars? I’m stuck. Why was traffic even stopped? How did you hit us? Miles, I’m stuck.” I was blathering, but I had never been good with small spaces and being held in place by a seatbelt with no give that kept getting tighter felt a lot like a small space and I was beginning to hyperventilate and panic. It might have been shock, I don’t know I’ve never been in shock before. “Miles, I’m stuck!”

He grabbed the driver’s side door handle and lifted up and it jammed but didn’t release. “Jesus Christ, this thing is a piece of shit.”

I could barely reach it but I grabbed the inside door handle with my fingertips and pulled and same thing, it engaged but didn’t release. This was an entirely new quirk for this car and I was unappreciative.  **Stay calm dear, he’ll get you out** . “This is not the time Granny!”

Miles gave me an odd look.

“I call the car Granny, because she’s so old.”

He rolled his eyes, “hang on I have a pocket knife.” He disappeared back to his SUV and I had an entirely new set of problems. One being, Miles Wood was apparently my savior and I didn’t really LIKE Miles as a person. Two being, GRANNY LUCILLE.

“GRANNY WHY ARE YOU HAUNTING ME?” I was whisper yelling into the car. 

**Well I couldn’t very well go to Canada.**

“YOU ARE A GHOST, YOU DON’T NEED A PASSPORT.” Deke decided I was acting crazy enough and climbed into the front seat. “You have been haunting Luci since you died.”

**And you were always a little jealous.**

“I take it back, I’m not jealous anymore!”

**Too late.**

As soon as possible, I was going to text Luci. I didn’t want her stupid ghost! Well actually, I didn’t mean that. I loved Granny L but she was a certified shit starter and I did not need shit started in my life thankyouverymuch. 

Miles came back with a wicked looking pocket knife and proceeded to look really uncomfortable, “Shit, is there any place the seatbelt is kind of loose?”

I looked at him like he was special kind of stupid. “God, it’s a good thing you’re pretty.”

He just gave me a scathing look, “I don’t have to help you.”

“And I don’t have to tell Mac that you rear ended me. We all have choices to make, Miles Wood.”

“Fine.” Miles ducked his head inside the car and tried to pull the belt from between my breasts without touching them. It was impossible, of course, but I appreciated the effort. OR did I? He was making a big deal about NOT touching them. I mean Luci got all the good genetics. She looked like a damn pin up doll with her hourglass figure, but I wasn’t hideous. I had curves in places and I made up for my boring mousey appearance by dying my hair black and dressing in a rockin’ Rockabilly style. I had tattoos, I did my hair cute and I could rock a winged eyeliner like no one’s business. Miles Wood would be LUCKY to touch my boobs and since I wasn’t a size 4, there was plenty of boob to touch. 

I made the mistake of looking at his stupidly pretty eyes. They were a blue/green and tended to favor one color or the other depending on the light. The seatbelt finally snapped and the eyes I was looking at, looked back. I took a deep breath, “Thank you.” 

Miles touched my face and his fingertips came away with more blood than had been on mine earlier. “We need to get you looked at.” He pulled me through the open window and kept one of his arms around me as I swayed on my feet. 

Other people were starting to get out of their cars. The traffic may have been snarled before, but it was an absolute stand still now. I had hit the person in front of me and the guy behind Miles had been following too closely and smashed into the back of him when he hit me. It was a mess. State troopers finally made it to the scene; we all exchanged information and police reports were made. Deke had been put into a police cruiser because the pavement was too hot for his paws. Tow trucks were called and as I watched my ancient Volvo be loaded onto a flatbed truck along side Miles’ expensive Range Rover, I started to panic. 

Miles put his hands on my shoulders, “What’s wrong, Jen?”

I would not cry. I would not cry. This eyeliner was fucking perfect.

“My mom and dad have apparently fucked off to CANADA to meet Mac’s parents. Which is just, what the fuck in and of itself? They’ve been ‘officially’ dating for like two weeks. Jill is in a deposition and I can’t get a hold of her and Joshy is with patients and he can’t just LEAVE he’s a pediatrician. His patients are CHILDREN. And I don’t have anyone to pick me up and that car is the last thing I have of my grandmother, except possibly her ghost, and Deke is in a POLICE CAR because the pavement is too hot for his widdle paws. And I don’t know how I am getting home or what I’m going to drive. That car is worth like $100 so when the insurance totals it out I won’t even be able to buy a NEW one…” I stopped only because I ran out of air.

Miles spun me around and winced, I had been seen by a paramedic and the blood had been cleaned up and he put a butterfly bandage on the small cut on my head, I had a huge fucking bruise running across my torso where the seatbelt was and probably a couple bruised and/or broken ribs. I was instructed to go to a hospital, but what good was it having a brother who’s a doctor if only to avoid hospital visits but HE WAS BUSY.

Looking at Miles was just making things worse because I very much wanted to have a mental fucking breakdown, but I didn’t really *LIKE* Miles and I didn’t want to have a breakdown in front of him but at the same time I very much wanted to hug him and it was all confusing and my head hurt and I just wanted to cuddle Deke but I couldn’t because it was too HOT FOR HIS WIDDLE PAWS.

It was then that little part of Miles that I seemed to detest switched off. “Ok I have a car coming, We are going to your brother’s practice so he can look at you, because short of kidnapping you, I doubt you’ll let me take you to a hospital. Then you have a choice: you can come to my place or I will stay with you at yours until one of your siblings arrives, ok?”

“But Deke.”

“Deke is coming with us, ok?”

“Ok.”

Ok. There was a game plan. With a direction and small steps to take, my anxiety level dropped a bit and I had some time to reflect on *why* I didn’t like Miles. 

Hockey was built into the Smith Family. Dad was a Jersey native and therefore a diehard Devils fan and thus all of us kids grew up watching hockey. Joshy even played the little tiny kid league but he got huge fast and had to play against kids that were so much older/better than him. It was a disaster, but we all knew hockey. Then Luci started dating Mac and suddenly I’m knee deep in hockey players. I was the official photographer for the Growlers for Greyhounds fundraiser Luci planned and Miles had always been my favorite player. He was big, he was fast, his puck handling was orgasmic, and he liked old school hockey: hit hard, drop the gloves and fight. He was really a little shitstarter on the ice and it made for a fun game to watch. 

But at the event, he was “on.” Miles Wood had a setting for “hockey appearances” and that was all you got to see of him and it put a sour taste in my mouth. There were players who genuinely enjoyed engaging with fans, there were players that hated it, and there were players who tolerated it. Miles was the latter which somehow made it worse, because you knew they hated it but they were really good at putting on a front.

The rest of the guys had been awesome and genuine during the event, but Miles was just “on.” He didn’t really talked to fans and when he posed for photos, the smile never reached his eyes and it had rubbed me the wrong way. 

With all the cars out of the way, the traffic started to crawl again and it wasn’t long before a long black Mercedes pulled up on the shoulder.

“Um Miles, they’re not going to let a dog in that car.”

He just laughed and that cocky little shit aspect of his personality reared its head, “Yeah, they will.” He walked over to the police cruiser that was waiting with us and opened the door to let Deke out.

I held out a hand like I was going to stop the dog from jumping out from 10 ft away, “Miles his widdle pawsies!” 

Miles sighed and picked the dog up and walked him back toward the hired car,which was somewhat hilarious; Miles was tall and big, but Deke was almost the same height when he stood on his hind legs, and something about the way this big dumb hockey player was lugging the dog around like an oversized suitcase was too much. 

He shoved the dog into the expensive black car, then held the door while I crawled in. The car was long, so there was more than ample leg room but it was still the width of a regular Mercedes. I sat perched on the middle seat while Deke was curled the other seat and Miles had a choice of having his arm pressed against mine or putting it across the back of the seat and he did the latter.

I wondered if it was because he didn’t want to touch me. He was all James Franco look-a-like, 90210 Jason Priestly, and I was like… Chubby Rockabilly trash with too much eyeliner and too many tattoos. Whatever. His plan backfired anyway because everytime the driver took a corner my body swayed into him and maybe I exaggerated it a little bit just to rankle the uptight twat. 

The first stop was Joshy’s practice and for some odd reason Miles came with me. We left Deke in the car with the driver. When we walked into the office, all the moms were conflicted whether to cover their children’s eyes from the beat up rockabilly chick, or just openly drool over Miles. Miles, true to form was suddenly “on” and it irritated me immensely. “Hey Julie, I’m here to see my brother.”

“Oh my goodness! Jen you look awful. Are you ok?” She gave Miles a side eye but it was accusatory rather than appreciative. “I’m fine, I was in a car accident and I just need Joshy to look me over real quick when he has a second.”

“I’m going to go get him right now, go back to room 2, please.” Julie disappeared and I let myself through the door to the back rooms, Miles was hot on my tail.

“Um.. Where are you going?”

He stopped and looked a little apprehensive, “With you?”

“And you need to be in the same room as me and my brother, who is a physician, why?”

Miles swallowed and looked back toward the waiting room and all the hungry looking moms. “I’ll just… wait, then.”

I felt bad for like a nano second before I remembered the Miles was actually the one that caused the accident to begin with.

I had barely put my ass on the examination table before Joshy burst through the door. “Omg Jenny are you ok?”

“First of all, I hate it when you call me Jenny, second of all I just hurt everywhere, which I think means I’m fine.”

Josh grabbed his little light thing and various tips, “First of all, I hate it when you call me Joshy but that never stops you. Second of all, what happened?”

“WELL. Miles Wood rear-ended me”

Josh choked on the breath he was taking, “What?”

“You heard me. Plowed his fancy Range Rover right into the back of Granny L’s Volvo, which I’m pretty sure is not salvageable. AND GUESS WHO I SAW?”

“No idea.” Josh was using the little light thing to look in my eyes. “Follow the light, Jen,”

“GRANNY LUCILLE WAS IN MY CAR PETTING DEKE.”

Josh sat back on his little rolly chair that creaked under his massive weight, “What? Jen did you hit your head?”

“Well yes, dummy, hence the butterfly bandage on my head, but she spoke to me too, Joshy.”

“Did she say why she wasn’t with Luci?.”

“Apparently, the afterlife has customs.”

Josh couldn’t help the giggle that exploded out of his face and watching a 6 foot plus 300 pound man giggle was something that you just didn’t see every day. “Are you fucking with me?”

“NO. Legit she was there and she warned me Miles was about to hit me. I tensed up and I think that’s why it was worse than it should have been.”

“How did you get here?” Josh went back to looking into my eyes, then looked at the bandage on my head and gave a satisfied grunt.

“Miles hired a car or whatever. Deke is with the driver and Miles is in the waiting room.”

Josh swallowed and looked at the ceiling, “You left Miles Wood in the waiting room with the moms?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. He’s a big boy.”

“No, Jen, you don’t understand. These Gwenyth Paltrow moms are THIRSTY. He will die.”

With that, Josh whisked out the door and I sat for a few moments and decompressed from everything that happened.

When Josh returned, Miles was on his heels.

“What the fuck Joshy?”

“Hey this is on you. Poor guy was covered in marrieds.”

I scooted back on the table, “I fail to see how that’s my fault Joshy. He shouldn’t look like” I gestured vaguely at his entire body, “that.”

Miles was doing his best to not pay attention to me, which was fucking fine. 

“Ok. Jenny, I’m pretty sure you have a fairly mild concussion.” I rolled my eyes. “But I won’t be sure without a Ct Scan.”

“I’m not getting a fucking Catscan.”

“Ok. I anticipated that answer and then we just need to treat it as one which means you can’t really be alone until Jilly or I get off work.” Joshy gave Miles a pointed look.

And Miles had the decency to answer “I won’t leave her alone until one of you guys are with her, I promise.” He had the right idea of looking slightly terrified.

My big brother was a force to be reckoned with. However, I knew Miles scored 10 goals and had an excess of 24 points last season which meant Joshy wouldn’t touch him with a ten foot pole lest the Devils lose their chance at a postseason run. So, I was stuck with Miles until Joshy or Jilly were off of work, which could be never.

“Jen, did the paramedic check for broken ribs?”

“He looked at the giant bruise across my torso if that’s what you mean?”

Josh sighed, “Lift up your shirt.”

I did was he asked and really didn’t think it was weird because my brother was a legit doctor, but Miles found a poster about diagnosing ADD super interesting on the opposite wall. Joshy’s fingers were firm but probing and I couldn’t help but wince a few times.

“Jenny you need x-rays. We just got a new machine here, so let’s do that. It’s really not going to matter in the long run, but it’s good to know.”   
  


I sighed, “Do you just want to use your new toy Joshy?”

“Maybe.” He rolled away on his little chair and maybe it’s because I was his little sister, I imagined blocking the wheels and sending the bodybuilder flying right off of it. 

“Fine, let’s do the x ray or whatever. Are you going to give me the good pills?”

“Are you going to become a weirdo druggie?”

I gave him ‘the look,’ “only enough to forget Mr. Frog’s Ass is going to be watching my every move until you or Jilly get off work, which let’s be honest, will be never. So I’m spending the night at Woody’s house.”

Miles coughed and I was amazed he kept his composure. But he was “on,” wasn’t he?

Joshy just rolled his eyes, “Fine. To be honest, I’m a little impressed you’re not on the floor crying, but you always were made of the toughest stuff. Even after getting into a car accident.” Joshy threw a glance at Miles and that was the end of his big brotherly duty. “Meet me at the end of the hall and we will get a good look at those ribs.”

None of the ribs were broken per se, but Joshy insisted there were microfractures where the seat belt had been and any more trauma to the area could cause them to crack or break completely and I needed to rest and not do anything strenuous for up to 4 weeks. Which we may have had a bit of a screaming match about because 90% of my job is squatting or bending or contorting myself into weird positions and places to get the perfect shot and I was going to lose clients and I wouldn’t be able to afford to live or BUY A NEW FUCKING CAR. At which point, Joshy insinuated that I was mooching off of Mom and Dad by still living at home and that I needed to buckle down and get a real job, but he and Jill could loan me some money to get me through.

I’m pretty sure the entire practice heard our argument and I was so mad that I didn’t have words. I just stalked into the examination room where we had left Miles, grabbed his hand and stomped out the door. On our way out, I looked at Julie, “Your boss is a dick!”

She made a sympathetic face, “He’s a great boss, but his brothering skills need work.”

I didn’t have an answer for that so I just pulled Miles out of the door and then climbed into the car. Fake Miles disappeared and real Miles squeezed my hand which I realized I was still holding. “Oh sorry.”

“I’m sorry about your brother.”

I shrugged on shoulder, “He and Jill are ridiculously competitive and I knew from the moment I came out of the womb I wasn’t going to be able to keep up with them so I went in a completely different direction and now I’m the weird artistic sister of a lawyer, a doctor, and an Ad Exec who’s dating a professional hockey player and I’m almost 30, living at home with my parents, driving a car that is literally older than I am and I will be fine. I can get some other little POS car. I have savings. I actually make a pretty decent living, but I’ve been reinvesting in myself. I do these photo retreats and classes trying to learn techniques, advertising, I have two assistant photographers that I use on the regular for weddings and stuff. Building a business takes time and since I have the luxury of living in my childhood bedroom, I figured I would focus on that.” I had no idea why I just spilled all that information to Miles, of all people.

He gave my hand another squeeze, which I was STILL holding and seemed incapable of letting go. He had nice hands even if he did appear to be a nail biter. 

“So your place or mine?” Miles gave me a cheesy wink and I couldn’t help but give a little chuckle that turned into a wince. Now that the adrenaline and shock were wearing off, my ribs were really bothering me.

I sighed, “Can we grab some stuff from my parents' place? And I need to get Deke’s food and whatever. It’s probably easier just to go to your place. You can live your normal life and I can just be a lump on the couch or whatever.”

“You’re not going to be there too long, Josh said he was going to come get you.”

I patted Miles’ hand, “You’re so sweet and young and naïve. This is what is going to happen: Josh and Jill will text every hour saying they are coming to get me starting at like.. 7. Then around 10 it will be ‘Oh well can you just stay at Miles’ place? You can’t sleep for more than a couple of hours.’ Tomorrow, you will fuck off to do whatever and I will still be at your house and Jill and Josh will stop responding to all communication. SO, You have two options Mr. Wood, you can drop me off at my house, which I wouldn’t blame you for in the least. I’ll probably be completely fine, but I have a feeling you won’t do that so just be prepared to have me in your house for a week.”

Miles opened his mouth to say something then thought better of it, “Give the driver your address, we’ll get what you need.”

An hour later we pulled up to a fancy three level townhouse with a two car garage underneath it. My ribs were absolutely killing me and when I told Joshy an hour ago that I was hurting all over I didn’t know what hurting all over *meant* because now I was definitely hurting all over.

“Fair warning, Miles, if you show me a bathtub and epsom salts I’m going to kiss you.”

Miles held a hand out to me and pulled me out of the car, “I guess it’s a good thing I have two of those then.”

The driver opened the trunk and helped Miles get all the stuff, most of which was for Deke. I had a small bag with some clothes, makeup, toiletries, and my laptop bag so I could at least do some editing. I owed Josh an apology, though, because there was no way I was going to be able to work for at least a week. Getting rear ended in that steel death trap felt like getting run over by a train. 

I reached for my two bags and winced. Miles gently smacked my hand away, “Don’t even, Jen.”

He grabbed my two bags and Deke’s diaper bag that contained everything we’d need to get through an apocalypse and put Deke’s giant Tempur Pedic dog bed under his arm. 

Miles keyed in a code on the lock and the front door unlocked. “Well that’s fancy.”

“You’re lucky the cleaning service was just here.”

The townhouse was updated and modern with an open floorplan on the first floor. Miles dumped everything on the floor in the foyer. “Um, this is the main area, kitchen, living room etc. My bedroom/bath is over there, there are two bedrooms on the second floor, and the third floor was a rec area and now it’s just my gym. I figure get you situated into one of the bedrooms up stairs and it will be nice and quiet for you.”

There was an uncomfortable pause, “I hate to put a damper on your plans, but I don’t think I can make it up a set of stairs at the moment.”

Miles looked concerned, “Shit, I didn’t even think of that. Ok, that’s fine, you can just stay in my bedroom down here and I’ll sleep up stairs, no big deal. Sheets were just changed and stuff.” He set my bags down on the huge king sized bed, all the furniture was dark wood, linens were navy; it was tastefully done but very masculine.

“Did you pick all this stuff out?”

“Um, some of it. My mom really likes the whole decorating thing so I picked a couple things and then she did the rest.”

I gave an impressed nod, “That’s cool.”

“Are you ok? Do you need anything?” 

“No, I just really want to get the blood out of my hair and wash the day off and take a nap.”

“Ok, um.. I’m gonna hang out down here and just call if you need anything, ok?”

“Will do, I promise.”

Miles shifted his weight, “I’m really sorry about today, Jen. I honestly have no idea what happened. One second traffic was flowing and the next it was stopped and my brake pedal was stuck, which is weird because I just had the car serviced.”

Ah, this was making so much more sense, “Miles, one day you’re going to have to ask Mac about Granny L. I’m also willing to bet a hundy that there is nothing wrong with your brakes.”

Miles just looked confused, “Well, there had to be, the pedal just jammed.”

I patted his shoulder, Granny L’s timing was fucking impeccable, the meddling cow.

**I heard that.**

Telepathic meddling cow.

Miles disappeared into the living area and left the door open a crack. I looked wistfully at the bed, but I needed to soak in a hot bath to loosen my muscles and get all the sweat and blood off of me. I almost cried when I saw the huge soaker tub next to the walk in shower. I opened drawers and cabinets until I found the towels and epsom salt. While waiting for the tub to fill, I took some of the pills Josh prescribed. If only I had a glass of wine, this would be a perfect ending to a perfectly shitty day. When I slid into the hot water, I’m pretty sure an involuntary pornographic moan escaped. Grabbing my phone, I tapped out a text to Luci.

_ Ok. I’m going to preface this by saying I’M FINE. Joshy already looked me over and I had xrays. But I got into a car accident today and I’m pretty sure Granny L’s Volvo is totaled. _

_ LucilleBall: OMG. JENNY. ARE YOU OK? WHAT HAPPENED? DO WE NEED TO COME BACK? FYI Mac’s family is amazing and Mom and Dad are getting along so well with his parents, but we will come back! _

_ I’m fine. No thanks to Granny L. Had you noticed she was suspiciously missing from your life? _

_ LucilleBall: WHAT?! I mean, we had noticed that she hadn’t been around but we assumed maybe she crossed over? _

_ NOPE. Guess who hit me? _

_ LucilleBall: Someone rich? _

_ Well, yes, but also stupidly cute and irritating. Miles Wood rear ended me and get this: His brakes mysteriously stopped working at the exact time I saw Granny L in the back seat petting Deke and she said  _ **_Oh dear_ ** _ in that way she says things. _

_ LucilleBall: That’s… That’s a lot of information. Are you staying with Josh or Jill? _

_ Neither. _

_ LucilleBall: WHAT DO YOU MEAN NEITHER. I’m calling them right now. _

_ I’m staying with Miles, Joshy thinks I have a mild concussion and frankly, I trust Miles more that my own siblings to make sure I don’t slip into a coma in my sleep. _

_ LucilleBall: I’m going to kill them. I’m coming home, Jen. _

_ DON’T YOU DARE. I will be fine. I’ll take an Uber home tomorrow. _

_ LucilleBall: YOU WILL NOT. I’m yelling at them right now. _

_ OMG Luci just let them be them. They already think I’m a huge burden on the family. Let them be oblivious workaholics, please. _

_ LucilleBall: I’m still going to yell at them. Is Miles behaving? _

_ He’s fine.  _

_ LucilleBall: Just fine? Until a few weeks ago you were basically in love with him. You own more Miles Wood merch than I own Blackwood and I’m sleeping with Mac. _

_ I don’t want to talk about it. He’s been a perfect gentleman. Don’t let Mac yell at him.  _

_ LucilleBall: I can be home in like a day ok? Josh says you have broken ribs. _

_ DON’T COME HOME, I AM FINE. I’m tired, I’m going to sleep for a couple hours ok. But I’m fine. So don’t do anything stupid like come home early. You just spent like 2 months working hours that were more insane than Josh and Jill and that is not something to be proud of.  _

_ LucilleBall: I’m going on record to say I will respect your wishes but I don’t like it. _

_ Noted. _

_ LucilleBall: Tell Granny Lucille I miss her. _

_ I’m going to try and convince her you and Mac can’t live without her constant meddling, because if this is the result I do not need it.  _

_ LucilleBall: Hmmm I mean… her meddling worked out in the long run. _

_ Mac didn’t hit you with his car. _

_ LucilleBall: Fair point. Granny L is escalating. _

_ Night Luci. _

_ LucilleBall: Night Jenny. _

I set my phone on the counter behind my head and felt every single tension I had slide right out of my body.  **You should sleep, dear.** I shouldn’t sleep in the bath Granny L.  **It’s ok, I’ll wake you.**

When I woke up, the water was cool and a large hand on my shoulder, “Jen. Jen wake up.”

It took a moment for all the pieces to fall into place, “Miles? I’m naked, why are you in here?”

“I called from both doorways, but you were really out and I was worried and I didn’t peek.” He was sitting on the edge of the bath facing my head and staring over it, like he might accidentally see a reflection of my boobs in my eyes.

I pinched the bridge of my nose between two fingers, “Honestly, I’m not sure if I’m thankful you didn’t peek or insulted you seem to find me repulsive.”

Miles clenched his teeth and I saw a muscle jump in his jaw. God, that was hot. “I think you should go to bed.”

“Fine, Just hand me the towel and go please.”

He handed me the plush navy bath towel and left the bathroom. I pulled the rubber stopper with my toe and tried to sit up. None of my muscles moved, which was weird because my brain was telling them to move. I tried again. Nothing. Shit.

“Umm Miles? Are you still out there?”

“You can’t get out of the tub, can you?”

“Forget it. If you’re going to be a smug son of a bitch, I’ll figure it out.” The water made a sucking sound as the last of it drained out of the tub and I sat there naked and cold. 

“Will you stop being difficult? Just put the towel over you, I’m coming in.”

“I am NOT difficult.”

“Difficult should be your first, middle, and last name.” 

I laid the towel over my body and Miles came back into the bathroom. “Give me your hands”

I held out one hand and held the towel to my body with the other. Miles gave me a tug and apparently underestimated my weight because I only made it halfway up before falling back into the tub. “Jesus, Wood.”

“Shit, sorry.”

This time he overcompensated and I crashed in all my wet naked glory right into Miles, the towel falling to the floor as I used both hands to steady myself by holding onto his very firm torso. 

My skin was covered in goosebumps and he was radiating heat. My boobs were pressed against his chest and we made eye contact that neither one of us was brave enough to break. But Miles was a 24 year old man and he did it, he looked down. I’m sure he would have looked away immediately, but he saw the bruise that ran from my collar bone across my sternum and wrapped around the ribs below. “Holy shit, Jen.”

His eyes widened and his fingers traced the bruise between my breasts. To his credit, he ignored the fun bags and was way more concerned with the bruise. His fingertips traveled over the tattoo on my side, a huge bare tree with a full moon behind it and murder of crows landing in its branches. I had a large peacock feather that took up most of my left forearm and on my upper right arm, an entire bouquet of flowers formed a half sleeve. I had a small New Jersey Devil on my collar bone. Miles took in all of these with his eyes, and with his hands.

“So, ummm you’ve seen mine, so now it’s your turn to show me yours.”

“What?” He sounded completely confused, like he wasn’t completely staring at my completely naked body.

“Your bruises, duh. Get your head out of the gutter Miles.”

The big man blushed and bent to pick up the towel, which put a particularly childish tattoo right in his line of vision. I was mostly shaven, down there, except for one patch and there was a lawnmower tattooed right on my pubic bone.

“Jesus fucking Christ Jen.”

I wanted to chuckle at the awkward situation, but my entire body said that was a bad idea. 

He stood up and wrapped the towel around me. “For the record, I think you’re beautiful, but Blacky has like 3 inches and 25 lbs on me and I’m pretty sure he would kill me if I fucked his soon to be sister-in-law.”

“Sister-in-law? Do you know something I don’t?”

He just gave me a withering look.

I relented, “Fair.”

He put a hand on my back and guided me back into the bedroom, “Do you need help putting on clothes?” 

“I want to say no.”

Miles sighed and brought my bag over to me and I pulled out the cami and shorts I normally slept in.

“Nope.”

“What do you mean ‘Nope?’”

He took the bag and dug around until he found a pair of black leggings and kept digging “Do you not have a normal T-shirt in here?”

I looked at the wood floor, “No, and what do you mean ‘Nope?’ What is wrong with my pajamas?”

“Why not? And calling those pajamas is generous.”

“Ummm because they’re all Devils shirseys and they all say Wood on the back. And those are totally pajamas, I bought them in the pajama part of the store.” This wasn’t the most humiliating thing that had happened to me, but it was a super duper close second.

The muscle in his jaw jumped again and he stalked over to a dresser and pulled out a T-shirt. 

“Can you lift your arms?”

I did my best but they only made it about halfway up. Miles dropped the T-shirt over my head and helped guide my little T Rex arms through the holes. When I looked down there was a Devils logo stretched across my boobs. Miles just had a cocky half smirk on his face. “This says WOOD 44 in the back doesn’t it?”

He didn’t say anything, just held the leggings out. I scoffed, “I need panties, Miles.”

He dug around in the bag, “Jen, these aren’t panties, they’re dental floss being held together by scraps of fabric.”

“Oh my god, like you’ve never seen a thong before.” 

He didn’t say anything.

“Exactly.” 

I finally dug out a pair of bikini type panties and held them out. The tshirt fell to to top of my thighs so I was mostly covered. Miles knelt down and helped me get each foot in while I held onto his shoulders for balance. I had the stark realization that the act of dressing someone was somehow more intimate than the opposite, when Miles was sliding the panties up my legs to the point I could grab them myself. He did the same with the leggings and then folded back the covers on the bed for me. 

“Am I wearing enough clothes, your highness?”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re so exasperating. Get in bed, Jen.”

I tried to lower myself gently into the bed, but I only got so far before all my muscles said ‘fuck this’ and I ended up falling on the bed like ungraceful elephant seal. “Exasperating is a big word for a hockey boy.”

When I was situated, he pulled the covers over me and brushed the wet hair out of my eyes. That was going to look pretty in the morning. He ignored my hockey boy barb., “I’ll wake you up in a couple of hours. I’ll just be in the other room if you need anything.”

Deke jumped on the bed, circled three times and laid down. I was asleep before Miles even left the room. 

It was dark in the room when I awoke and knifed upright at the expense of my protesting muscles and ribs. I gasped, trying to wade toward reality. I had been dreaming. In the dream, Miles had pulled Deke’s broken and bloody body out of the car and it had felt so real. I couldn’t help the sob the shook my shoulders. But Deke was fine, he was right…. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t on the bed. Oh my god, what if it was real? Another sob shook my body. “MILES!”

I threw the covers off and tried to struggle out of bed, “MILES!”

I heard footsteps and light flooded the room and Deke and Miles were backlit. “Oh my god. Deke!”

The greyhound jumped on the bed and laid down next to me while I wrapped my arms around his long neck. “Thank god.”

Miles was bare chested in a pair of joggers and slides, “Jen, what’s wrong?”

“I had a bad dream that Deke died in the car crash and then he wasn’t here.” My shoulders shook as I clutched at the dog. 

Miles came over and tucked the covers back around me, “I just took him out for the night, he’s fine. Relax.”

He brushed some hair out of my face and he must have felt tears on my face because he wiped them away with his thumb. That little act of tenderness only made it worse and another sob escaped. Miles sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped me in a hug.

“It was awful. He was all bent and broken and his beautiful legs...”

“ Shhh, it’s ok, he’s fine. He’s right there.”

Deke didn’t like the noise I was making and crawled up along side my body, nudging my hand with his long face.

Miles let me go and I flopped back down into the pillows and then scooted down to be closer to Deke. The dog rolled onto his back so I could rub his belly.

“Are you ok?”

I nodded, “yeah. I know it’s probably my brain trying to process the accident and stuff, but it was scary and upsetting.”

Miles made a move to stand up and I reached up to grab his arm, “Will you stay for a little while?”

“Jen..”

I watched in real time as his voice got smoother and he turned “on” and it pissed me the fuck off so I whipped out the guilt trip card.

“I mean you did hit me with your car, seems like a little thing to ask.”

Just like that, the switch flipped off again and he sighed, “Scoot over.”

I spooned the dog and Miles kicked off his slides and spooned me, his hand on my hip. I sighed and slowly my heartbeat returned to normal and I drifted off to sleep.


	2. Part 2

I woke up to sunlight streaming into the windows and my pillow was rumbling with snores. I felt them more than I heard them because my arm was wrapped around whatever was vibrating.

I blinked and lifted my head, which hurt, and I noticed Miles was sleeping on his back and I was wrapped around him like a monkey. I was using his chest as a pillow and hugging him around the stomach, my leg was over his thigh and my foot was tucked behind his knee. 

With a soft moan, I laid my head back down on Miles’ chest and had the surreal realization I was wrapped around my favorite hockey player. It was almost worth the pain. Almost.

Miles started to stir, one eye opening and he undoubtedly wondered what exactly was wrapped around him like a wisteria vine. I don’t exactly know how I would classify the noise he made, but he grumbled like a grumpy bear and his arms came around me and he hugged me closer. 

I was comfortable except for the fact I really had to pee and my entire body felt like the Tin Man without any oil.

My voice came out in a hoarse whisper like I’d been sleeping for 30 hours, “Miles?”

He didn’t answer in words, just gave a little “hmm” in acknowledgement.

“I have to pee.”

He had a pretty nice voice most of the time and I loved listening to his interviews but Miles’ voice when he just woke up? Panty dropper. “So go pee.”

“My body doesn’t want to work. Everything hurts. Is this what dying feels like?”

“Could you be more dramatic?”

“Yes, Chandler Bing, I can be.”

“Chandler who?”

I gave a defeated sigh, “you’re too young for me, Miles. We could never work.” 

Miles groaned, “Why are you like this? It infuriates me that I like you.”

“Ooh infuriate is another big word for a hockey boy.”

Miles rolled us so fast I almost got whiplash. One of his big hands gripped my wrists above my head and I felt his morning wood hard against my hip. The idea of Wood’s wood set off giggles which hurt like fire across my torso. 

The giggling only seemed to irritate him more and I didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of predicting his tactic to shut me up. Miles pressed his lips to mine and we both hesitated. I was trying to decide if my morning breath was gross enough to deter him. When I didn’t push him away, he kissed me again and he gave a satisfied grunt, tilting his face to kiss me deeper. Apparently, it was not. When he finally broke the kiss, he buried his face into my neck and heaved a great sigh.

I pulled out my best Gracie Hart impression, “Oh you *like* me like me. You llliiikke me, you want to huuuuugg me, you want to kiiiisss me.”

Miles just gave another sigh and let go of my wrists, wrapping his arms around me he rolled us again and like magic, I was on my feet next to the bed, “Go pee.”

I found I could walk ok if I took very small steps and didn’t move my upper body at all. Sitting on the toilet and then getting up, however, was painful and difficult and I didn’t realize how much my nonexistent core helped me do everyday tasks, because now that it was injured I couldn’t do anything.

I risked a glance in the mirror and gave a small hiss. My hair was everywhere and I hadn’t removed my eye make up last night. Whatever had survived my bath was spread over my whole face. I took some more of the pills Josh prescribed me, found a hair elastic to at least make the rat’s nest look intentional, then dug a makeup wipe out of my toiletry bag. Once I looked mostly human, albeit dead human, I shuffled back to bed. 

I barely made it to the edge before Miles wrapped his arms around me and carefully laid me down next to him arranging my body like I had been before. His fingers trailed up and down my back and it was ridiculously comfortable and intimate for two people who barely knew each other.

I sighed and tried to fall back to sleep but my stomach gurgled. Miles looked up and arched a brow over sleepy hooded eyes. “Did you eat last night?” His voice rumbled in his chest and the sensation was pleasant.

“Before or after I fell asleep in the bath?”

Miles just grunted, “What do you normally eat?”

I tried to shrug, “I dunno a bagel or something. Sometimes I get a frappuccino and call that breakfast.”

The broad chest beneath my ear heaved a sigh, “Jen, that’s not breakfast.”

“Yeah I don’t want to be lectured about breakfast from a guy that looks like some sort of statue with abs like this.” I traced the dips in his stomach with a finger.

Smart ass Miles had awoken, “I think I’m the perfect person then to lecture you on adequate nutrition. Adequate Jen.. not even good or great. Adequate.”

I rolled my eyes and he probably couldn’t see it but I hoped I gave off rolling eye vibes. “Says the Greek god to the lumpy mortal woman.”

Miles just snorted, “Yeah, absolutely nothing desirable about your body at all.”

I knew he was being sarcastic but I chose to be stubborn and obtuse. “See? I’m right.”

“Don’t even.”

My stomach grumbled again and Miles lifted his head and look down at me. “I guess I should do something about that.”

“Does that mean you have to get out of bed?”

Miles’ eyes flashed green, “Yeah, I have something to offer you, it’s high in protein but not very filling and probably not a good breakfast.”

His dick had been hard since he kissed me and I had been trying not to pay attention to it, but there was really so much willpower a girl could have. I traced a finger up the length and it jumped in his joggers. Miles grabbed my wrist, “Not today.”

He gave a sigh and untangled his limbs from mine, “I’ll take Deke out and go get you something to eat ok?”

“That’s probably a good idea. Do you have plans today?”

Miles shrugged a t-shirt over his broad shoulders and I decided it should be against the law for him to wear a shirt ever. “I need to get a workout in, but I’m assuming if I leave you alone for too long you will try and do something you shouldn’t so my plan is to come back here and make sure you rest.”

I opened my mouth to complain, but he stopped me, “Don’t start. It’s too early to be completely exasperated by you.”

This time I was too fast for him to cut me off, “That’s another big word for a hockey boy.”

His eyes flashed green again and I had zero doubt if I was in this bed for any reason other than broken ribs, breakfast would have Miles’ cock down my throat. I was supremely ok with that. 

The sexual tension was disturbingly thick before he grabbed his wallet off the dresser and shoved it into his pocket, saying “Come on Deke, let’s go for a walk.”

Miles left and I flopped onto my back and contemplated getting up. I needed to make a claim to my insurance, needed to look at my photography schedule and get any shoots covered by my assistants, and I needed to do some editing. 

With lots of effort and pain and generally feeling like an old woman, I managed to crawl out of bed on my own.  **Even at 80 I wasn’t this decrepit.** Thanks Granny. 

I found my phone, found my purse, found my laptop bag and plopped on the couch with less grace than a beached manatee. 

My phone rang before I had a chance to unlock it and It was a FaceTime call from LucilleBall 

“Why are you calling me from Canada? Isn’t this going to cost a fortune?”

“They have WiFi here you weirdo. Besides Mac and I wanted to see Deke and make sure you weren’t dead.”

“Miles took Deke out to get breakfast and as you can see I’m fine.”

“You look like shit.” Mac tried to subtly elbow his beloved, but he really didn’t know his own strength and she went flying. I couldn’t help but laugh and then wince. Laughing HURT.

“Damnit MacKenzie. As much as I love seeing my sister go flying, don’t make me laugh.”

He looked sheepish, which he did a lot. “Sorry, Jen.”

“I still don’t know why you called.”

“We wanted to see Deke,” came my sister’s response off screen, “and Josh says you can’t look at screens for a long time so I didn’t want to text”

“So you FaceTimed me so I’d have to look at a screen?” 

Luci had the wherewithal to look chagrined. “Ok, you caught me. We really just want to see you and make sure you were ok. Mom and Dad are ready to get a plane if needed.”

“Tell them hi.”

“Tell them yourself,” Luci panned the camera around to our parents and another couple that looked like Mac so it must be Mac’s family.

“Hey. I’m fine no need to come home!”

“We can though, if you need us to!”

“But I don’t!”

The camera went back to Mac and Luci. “Hey, so one of the Greyhound Rescue people are going to drop off a foster dog.”

“What? Luci, there’s no way I can deal with another dog right now.”

“It’s fine we talked to Miles about it.”

I struggled to sit up and clearly I winced because Mac and Luci both winced in sympathy as I did it. “What do you mean you talked to Miles?” 

“Well Josh and Jill are both shirking their sibling duties and Josh talked to Miles about you staying there until Mom and Dad get home.”

“What? Where was I? Does anyone care what I think about this?”

“We all agreed to text Miles instead of you. And Miles agreed with us.” 

“That does not answer my question. Do I get a say in any of this?”

Luci made a face and I knew I wasn’t going to like the answer, “No.”

“What happens if I just Uber home?”

“Miles will tattle and Mom and Dad will fly home early.”

I didn’t react but I was screaming on the inside. “I hate all of you for the record. But I love you so don’t die in a plane crash or whatever.” I hit the end button forcefully. 

I wondered who could have possibly thought me staying with Miles for a week was a good idea.  **I think it’s a fabulous idea.** Of course. Of course Granny L had her nose in all of this. 

I flopped back into the comfortable couch. Miles got his furniture for comfort rather than style and in that moment I really appreciated that about him. I finally got a chance to look around and it appeared Hurricane Miles had hit his living space. There were dirty dishes on the coffee table, blankets and pillows everywhere. From what I could see of the kitchen, there were pots and pans and empty take out containers in the sink and on the counters. Didn’t he say his cleaning service came yesterday? 

There was no way I could work like this, I managed to haul myself upright and off the couch. I could tell the pills were working because there was still pain, but my muscles were grudgingly doing what I was telling them to do. Within 10 minutes I had most of the dishes in the dishwasher and the pillows and blankets neatly stacked on the opposite end of the couch.

10 minutes of basic tidying that should have taken me 2 minutes had completely drained me of energy and I beached myself on the couch again. I was lightly dozing when I heard the door open and Deke’s nails clicked across the floor. 

When I opened my eyes, Miles was sitting on the coffee table and the smell wafting out of the pastry bag he held was mouth watering, “Did you clean?”

I gave a soft groan as I struggled to sit up, “you live like a normal 23 year old guy, so yes.”

His face was less grateful and more pissed than I expected, “You’re supposed to be taking it easy, Jen.”

“That’s a weird way of saying ‘thank you.’ And are we going to have a discussion that you’re basically a distant acquaintance and you’re making health related decisions for me?”

Miles stood up and left the bag on the table, “No. We’re not.”

Pride said I should not grab that bag and devour its contents, but my stomach argued that my pride was dumb as fuck and I was hungry. I grabbed the bag and peeked inside. It was a ham and cheese bagel sandwich. I might marry Miles Wood.

“I’m a little shocked you’re not arguing with me about this,” Miles turned around as I was chewing my first bite of bagelwich. “Ah, I found a second way to shut you up.”

I gave him the finger with my free hand and his eyes practically went emerald. “If that was an invitation, I’m accepting at a later date.”

Unless I wanted to end up face down in his pillows getting drilled from behind, I should probably stop antagonizing him. I had a really hard time trying to remember why I didn’t want that. Right, I barely knew the man, he had a problem with “fans,” and he was a lot younger than I was.

**But did you see his stomach?** Granny L had a point. 

Miles made some sort of gross shake in the blender and was about to leave everything on the counter including the dirty blender until I glared actual daggers right at him. 

After putting everything back in the fridge and rinsing out the appliance, he sat next to me on the couch. 

I finished my bagelwich and balled up the bag and tossed it on the coffee table.

“Double standard much?”

“I’m an invalid.”

Miles looked a little uncomfortable and I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like what he was about to say, “So your brother says you need to limit your screen time to an hour a day for a few days in 20 minute chunks.”

I gave him a withering stare, “I’m still not thrilled about this situation.”

“If I leave you alone for a few hours,will you listen to your brother’s advice or do I need to hire a babysitter?”

I opened my mouth and closed it several times trying to come up with some sort of smartass remark but for once in my life, I couldn’t actually think of one. What came out of my mouth instead was, “Why are you even doing this? We barely know one another. I think Mac introduced us like twice. You don’t really like fans, so why not drop me off at home and let me just figure this out?”

Miles looked a little offended, “I like fans just fine. I’m not rude or anything.”

I gave him another withering look, “You have a fan setting and it’s so completely obvious. You sign what you need to sign, but your photos are so stiff and your smile never reaches your eyes. It’s SO obvious Miles. And you do it other places too. It’s so fake and it’s like a mask slides right over your face…”

“What does it matter to you anyway?”

“I just don’t like it.”

“So? It shouldn’t matter.”

“But it does, because I was a fan, Miles. Me, and I don’t want fake you. Real you is so much better. You’re smart and engaging and funny. That cocky NHL fan persona isn’t who you are.”

Miles put his empty glass on the table and bent one leg, turning on the couch to face me. “How would you know who I am?”

“I’m a photographer Miles, I see the world in a way others don’t. I see people in a way others can’t. I see glimpses of you when you drop that façade.”

“But why does it matter to YOU?”

I didn’t have an answer to that. I mean, I did, but I hadn’t admitted it to myself yet, so I sure as hell wasn’t going to say the words out loud. 

“I don’t know,” I conceded.

Deke climbed onto the couch between us and circled three times before plopping down in a ball.

“When you figure it out, let me know.” He said, quietly. 

I not-so-subtly changed the subject, “You’re ok with yet another greyhound invading your house for the next however many days?”

Miles shrugged, “I like dogs. I’ve talked to Blacky a couple times about Deke and I figured this would be a good time to like… try the dog thing while you’re here to make sure I don’t kill it or something.”

I made a gesture across Deke’s prone body. He was still curled into a ball, but he had inverted himself so his legs were in the air and his lips had succumbed to gravity and it made him look like he was smiling. “This is it. This is what he does 23 hours a day.”

Miles picked up one of Deke’s paws and then let it flop back down. “This is it? I could probably do this.”

I gave the dog a small smile, “Find a dog park close by where they can do a couple laps at mach 5 and that is their daily requirement of activity. Maybe take him running in the morning but after like a mile he’s going to want to stop.”

With a sigh, Miles got off the couch and took his glass to the kitchen. When he came back, he squatted next to the couch. “If I go workout for a few hours, will you please please rest?”

“Miles, I have to call the insurance people and stuff, but I promise I will stop if I start to get tired or get a headache or anything...ok?”

He looked at me thoughtfully and then seemed satisfied with my answer. Before he stood, he reached up and brushed a chunk of my hair out of my face and tucked it behind my ear. It was such an intimate gesture, I was tempted to grab his the back of his hand and kiss his palm. At that moment, it seems I got to enjoy my first Granny L possession, because, despite myself, that’s exactly what I did. It was like I had zero control over my actions. Damn Granny L. The heel of his hand felt warm against my lips and I heard myself ask, “You never answered my question.”

“What question?”

“Why are you doing this?”

Miles just smiled thoughtfully and replied, “Isn’t it obvious?” When he stood, he bent over and kissed the top of my head before he disappeared into his bedroom.

**Well that was fun.**

**“** Granny, we need to talk about boundaries,” I whisper hissed once Miles shut his bedroom door. 

**Boundaries shmoundaries. I’m dead.**

“What did he mean, ‘isn’t it obvious?” Granny Lucille chose that exact moment to fuck off into ether. “For fucks sake… what good are you?”

At that, Deke righted himself and sat up, giving me a look like maybe I was a little crazy. It was possible he wasn’t entirely wrong about that. 

I was on the phone with the insurance agent when I heard Miles call goodbye as he left. 

Two hours later, I had come to the conclusion that the Volvo was definitely going to totaled and I was just going to buy something else. My insurance covered a rental, but didn’t foresee going any place in the next few days so why bother? Any shoots I was doing personally I had moved out 2-3 weeks; I emailed any clients waiting for photos to let them know I was in an accident and out of commission. Anyone who didn’t want to wait was scheduled with my assistants, and I felt successful since I didn’t have to give anyone refunds. 

I was laying on the couch with my feet tucked under a slumbering Deke. My laptop was sitting on my chest and I was scrolling through used cars when Miles returned. I felt his hand on my head and he squatted, “Whatcha doin?”

“Looking at cars.”

He sat on the floor by my head and took the laptop from me, “What kind are you looking at?” 

“Like a hatchback or small SUV. I think I’ll be doing a lot of dog sitting Deke and fostering for Luci in the future and it will make it easier to lug around camera equipment etc.” 

Miles closed the laptop and put it on the table. He bit the inside of his cheek. 

I struggled to sit up a bit and tuck another pillow behind my head, “You’re thinking. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that those all look like tiny death traps and I want to buy you a new car. A safe one.”

“That’s so funny, because I was just thinking that never going to happen.” I put a fake look of shock on my face, “Isn’t that weird?!”

He pushed the coffee table back a bit and turned to face me, crossing his legs, “Ok. Can you afford those cars?”

“Mostly, yes. I canceled a photography camp I was going to attend-that was a good chunk of change, so I got most of that back minus a small deposit. Plus, I have money saved so I can afford something in the 10-15K range with a small monthly payment. “

“Ok… well, for argument's sake, would you say it’s my choice of how I want to spend my money?”

I blame the medication for this because I fell directly into the trap, “Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”

“So it’s my choice to buy a vehicle.”

“Yes.”

“And put it in your name.”

“No.” The crafty bastard.

“But you just said…”

“Miles,” my voice may have been whiney, “I’m tired and my head hurts.”

“Do you need another dose of pain meds? Are you hungry?”

I was pretty pleased I had managed to distract him, and even better, My phone chose that moment to ding.

_ LucilleBall: The Greyhound people are bringing the dog over to Miles’ house. His name is Gordie! I didn’t tell them it was Miles’ house or anything.  _

_ As in Gordie Howe? _

_ LucilleBall: YEP All the new dogs coming in have hockey names now. _

I sighed at looked at Miles, “Mr. Hockey is on his way.”

He looked confused. “What?”

“The new Greyhound is coming here. His name is Gordie.”

“Ahh.. Wait. Here?”

“Yes, you made the mistake of giving Luci or someone Luci adjacent your address.”

Miles looked a bit panicked, “But…”

“Relax Miles, they will probably think it’s my house.”

The doorbell rang. 

“Help me up and go take a shower or something.”

Big hands wrapped around me and didn’t just pull me up like a normal human being. He picked up my beached Manatee body and set me right up on my feet.

He disappeared into what I was starting to think of as ‘our bedroom,’ which was ridiculous, and I shuffled to the door, trying not to move any part of my body above the hips.

The doorbell rang again.

“I’m coming! I’m just slow!”

I pulled open the door to a man and a woman, with Deke hot on my heels. “Hi! I’m Jen, Luci’s sister.” Deke made a break for it and I grabbed him by his New Jersey Devils martingale collar. “DEKE, NO!” 

The two greyhounds were straining to sniff each other. “MILES!” My torso was on fire from holding the 80lb dog back. “MILES!”

I don’t know what he heard in my voice, but based on the reactions of the people in front of me, he had done something ridiculously athletic in response, and since he was getting ready for a shower, he was down to nothing but his boxer-briefs. Awesome.

“Jen! Shit, are you ok?” Miles grabbed Deke’s collar and pulled him back from the entrance effortlessly while I wrapped my arms around my middle. “Sorry, she was in a car accident yesterday and has some broken ribs.”

The Greyhound people went from looking horrified to understanding in a heartbeat. The woman spoke first. “Oh dear. Sorry to hear that.”

Miles ushered them in, “Come on in and the dogs can meet.”

The man and woman, who were fairly nondescript, entered and the woman spoke again, “I’m Pam, This is Gerald. I’ve been working with Luci since she started our campaign. Another track shut down in China, and we have almost a 100 dogs coming. We need to get whatever dogs we can out into fosters and Luci was kind enough to offer, but she’s in Canada so she said you wouldn’t mind. This is a lovely home!”

“Oh well, thank you. It’s actually his, I just have some injuries from the accident so he’s helping take care of me while my family is gone. Wait, Gerald? Like Luci’s doorman?”

“Yes. Lovely to see you Miss Jen.” The older man smiled and slid a glance over to Miles, who was holding Deke with one hand and put the other around my shoulders.

“I can’t believe Luci roped you into this, Gerald.” 

The woman smiled broadly and was obviously not a hockey fan, but Gerald definitely knew who Miles was. 

Gerald released Gordie and Miles let go of Deke and the two dogs sniffed at each other before wandering into the living room, “Well, that was anticlimactic and not at all worth all that pain.” 

Deke was a darker brindle color, almost black with swirls of color. Gordie’s brindle was more of a tan base with swirls of dark. He also had beautiful white markings on his face and his legs were completely white. He was a beautiful dog and I knew exactly why Luci wanted me to foster him and why he was named Gordie. This was supposed to be my dog. I loved my sister, I loved my sister, I loved my sister. If I kept repeating that mantra, maybe I wouldn’t kill her. 

Miles tightened his arm around me, “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll go put some clothes on.”

I nodded and started to shuffle toward the living room. “Come on in, I’m supposed to be resting.”

Pam followed me but Gerald just muttered something about getting the dog’s luggage.

I tried to sit like a normal human being, but my muscles gave out halfway to the couch and I crashed into the cushions.

Pam looked sympathetic, “Oh, poor dear. It’s nice of your boyfriend to take care of you.”

Smiling, I just answered with a nod because I didn’t feel like wading through that particular minefield.

“He must have a good job to afford a place like this. Luci tells me you’re a photographer.”

Miles was light on his feet and I didn’t hear him approach before I felt his hand on my shoulder and he sat on the arm of the couch, “She’s a great one. She actually just did all the photography work and most of the design for the Goalies for Greyhounds calendar that got your organization, what was it babe? Like thirty thousand dollars?”

“Um yeah. Mac got like 500 printed, we sold most of them at the charity event and the remainder sold out online in like 15 minutes. We had a couple signed by all the goalies featured and those sold for over $500 a piece in the auction.” I reached up and threaded my fingers through his, thankful for his support. Pam looked properly embarrassed.

“Well, Gordie and Deke look like they are getting along fine so I better see where Gerald ran off to.” She stood up and started walking toward the door as Gerald came in and dumped off half of a PetSmart.

“Well that’s that then, we must be going. Lovely to meet you, Jen!” With that, Pam was out the front door. Gerald came over to the couch and sat on the coffee table opposite us. “Now, Miss Jen, you’ll call if you need anything?”

His concern was touching and I hoped this sweet man had a huge family with dozens of grandkids, “Gerald, I don’t live in your building. I’m not one of your flock.”

“And what a shame that is, I’d love to watch this play out” he said, smiling as he looked at Miles- who was trying hard to look everywhere but at the older gentleman.

A slightly wrinkled and sun spotted hand patted my knee before he stood up and offered his hand to Miles, “Now, you take care of this young lady, and maybe let that Gordie-dog teach you a trick or two.”

Miles smiled brightly, understanding the meaning immediately. He stood and walked Gerald to the door. “I’ll do my best, sir. Pretty sure that’s the only way I’ll keep this one around anyway,” he gestured over his shoulder at me. 

When Gerald left, Miles plopped next to me on the couch, “Do you think movies count as screen time?”

I shrugged, “Probably,”

“Even if the screen is 80 inches?” He scooted closer and both dogs took that opportunity to climb up on the couch. 

A chuckle escaped before I could stop it and I immediately winced, “I really don’t think size makes a difference...at least in that regard,Miles.”

“But you’re saying it matters in other regards?” Miles grabbed the remote off the coffee table and went to lay down behind me, fitting our hips together, “Lay down Jen. Relax.” He tucked a pillow under my head and being spooned Miles, I was asleep before he even navigated to the Netflix menu. 

When I woke up, the sun streaming through the windows had an orange hue and I was covered in Greyhound. Deke was nowhere to be found but Gordie was basically laying on my chest.

The TV was on the Food Network, but Miles didn’t seem to be in the kitchen or the large living space.

Pushing the clingy dog off of my chest, I managed to get up from the couch with minimal fuss. A bath would probably feel really good and I had been wearing the same clothes for almost 24 hours. I didn’t really plan to be at Miles’ for a week, and I definitely hadn’t anticipated him being complicit in to my family’s dysfunction. That was a problem, because I hadn’t really “packed” so much as thrown random shit from my clean laundry pile into a bag.

His bathtub was perfect. It was deep enough that the water covered every bit of me, but not so big I felt like I was going to float away. I had a stash of bath bombs that I desperately wanted to utilize in this tub. 

As the tub filled with steaming I water, I did inventory; the grand total of my clothes included four thongs, mismatched socks, some jeans, a really cute but uncomfortable bra, a polo I used for work, a cami/shorts PJ set that was basically transparent lace and a mismatched set of converse. At least I had grabbed a left and right shoe, but one was red and one was black.

I decided that was tomorrow’s problem. I shook a couple pills into my hand and took them. I didn’t think they really did anything for the pain, but they made my brain able to make my muscles do the things I wanted.. I sank into the water with a sigh and set my phone on the counter. Yo Yo Ma played softly through its small speakers. 

The bruise across my sternum was an ugly purple color and I noticed a faint yellow/green bruise across my abdomen from the lap belt. The hot epsom salt water would help these, though. As I listened to the soft strains of the cello, I felt tension seep from my bones. Muscles that had been knotted with pain all day relaxed and released.

I was about to drift off into a daydream when Miles walked in, naked as a jaybird, and I got an eyeful of Wood’s wood. He was wearing headphones, dripping sweat and was turned reaching behind him for a towel hanging on a hook on the back of the door. When he finally faced forward, he started and pulled the buds out of his ears. Several seconds stretched into eons as we both just existed in the same space… naked. I don’t know who broke eye contact first but I couldn’t help but look at him. He was absolutely gorgeous. He had obviously been working out in the gym upstairs and his veins popped under his skin. I tried not to stare at uh… little Wood, but it was becoming very not little. 

Finally, a brain cell inside my head sparked to life and it set off a bunch of warning lights, “Are you going to stand there all night?”

The first time he tried to speak his voice cracked and he cleared his throat, “Is that an invitation?”

I repressed a chuckle, “No. Just wondering if I should charge a fee if you’re going to stand there and stare all night.”

He shrugged a big shoulder, “It’s a nice view, but uh, I’ll just use the bathroom upstairs.” He turned to leave, his now mostly hard dick bobbing in front of him as he left. I thanked every god and goddess I could think of for the image of a naked Miles Wood that was now seared into my brain.

I sat in the steamy water for another 10 minutes or so contemplating the mystery that was Miles Wood. When he wasn’t being all phony, he was actually a genuinely nice person. He was frickin’ hot and intelligent and funny. He was a triple threat.

I managed to get out of the bath by myself on the third try, with minimal cussing. What felt like 400 hours later, my hair was towel dried, I was wearing underwear, and I had put on my pajamas. I shuffled into the living room, having almost perfected walking without moving my torso. Miles was sitting on the couch flicking through Netflix and I sank down next to him, trying not to wince. He glanced over at me and did a double take, his eyes going green in half a second.

“Those are not PJs.”

“Didn’t we have this conversation already? What is the fucking problem?”

Miles picked up my legs and suddenly, we were both horizontal on the couch. He was careful not to put any weight on me as his lips moved over mine. His kiss was insistent and demanding, his tongue licking its way into my mouth. I kissed him back and brought my hand up to thread through his gorgeous hair. I don’t know how long we kissed, but it wasn’t long enough before I pulled away feeling like we were being watched. And we were. Two greyhounds were two inches away from our faces.

“Did you happen to feed them dinner?”

Miles licked his lips and shook his head, “Nope, but I’ll do it in a second.” He put a hand on my chin and turned my face towards his giving me one more kiss. Then he managed to climb over me and get to his feet like I was no more than the width of a pencil.

“Gordie should get the same thing Deke gets. Luci kept Deke on the same food and stuff the rescue gave her when she adopted him.”

I could hear Miles dumping kibble in bowls and sorting the various supplements etc. “Why do you assume that?”

“Because I know my sister, and this dog, down to his damn name, is supposed to be mine.”

Miles fed the dogs at opposite ends of the kitchen and sat back down on the couch, lifting my legs and putting them in his lap. “Again, that just sounds like assumption.”

I bit my lip, “I love a Gordie Howe hat trick. It’s why you were my favorite player. A little shitstarter with a propensity to score? Gotta love it.”

I watched a myriad of emotions flicker across his face before he settled on offended, “Little?  _ Little _ shit starter?”

“I mean, next to Mac or Chara…”

“Ok, literally everyone in the league is little next to Chara, that’s not a fair comparison. And I  _ was _ your favorite player? What’s this past tense crap? Did that big stupid goalie replace me as your favorite?” Miles ran his hand up my leg and I made a face. “Does that hurt?”

“No, I just haven’t been able to shave. It’s probably all gross.”

Miles plopped his foot on the coffee table, “Oh yeah, cause my legs are smooth as a baby’s butt.”

He continued rubbing my leg which turned into a calf massage and I’m pretty sure the noise I made wasn’t even human, until he abruptly stopped. “Why am I not your favorite player anymore?”

I made a sad face. “Did you seriously just start massaging my leg as leverage to get back in my good graces?”

“Maybe. Leverage is a really big word for a hockey player though so…”

I couldn’t stop the giggle and I followed it with a wince. Miles noticed the change on my face and looked at with me concern, and asked “Are you taking your pain meds?”

I nodded.

“As prescribed?”

I nodded again.

He gave a grunt of approval and gave my calf muscle another cursory rub before he stopped again, “You didn’t answer my question.”

Wrinkling my nose I gave a  _ tssk _ in response, “You didn’t answer mine either.”

Miles’ smirk was the stuff of wet panty dropping dreams, “Well, that depends. Is it working??”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe you should answer my questions and I’ll keep going.”

I sighed, “I just like the way you play. The game is changing into something a lot less physical with more speed and precision and as a player you seem to mix that old school physical hockey with the new game of precision and speed. In a straight line, I would put money on you over McDavid.”

“Only in a straight line?”

I gave Miles a pouty pitiful face, “Baby, you can’t turn or stop.”

All I got in return was that damn cocky smirk as Miles’ hand traveled up my leg. I swallowed when he passed my knee and started to draw serpentine patterns as he made his way up my thigh. I drew a deep breath as his fingers dipped under the hem of my shorts and then he pulled his hand away, “I don’t know… I seem to be able to stop just fine.”

I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding, “That’s a little like stopping at the blue line when it’s a 2 on 1.”

“Ooh, she’s got chirps.” Miles ran his hand up my leg again, but this time he didn’t stop until his fingers were tracing the scrap of fabric and string I was calling underwear. 

I knew this was playing with fire and I was undoubtedly going to be the one who got burned.

The dogs came over and Deke gave us his clear potty face. I struggled to sit up and pushed Miles’ hand out of the bottom of my shorts.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To help take the dogs out?”

Miles let out a bark of sarcastic laughter, “No. First of all, no. Second of all, the only place you are going to wear those ‘pajamas’ is my bed.”

I sighed, “Fine. You can pick up all the dog poop, see if I care.”

As I relaxed back into the cushions of the couch, Miles grabbed two leashes and headed out the door. I pulled a blanket down off the back of the couch and snuggled underneath it. I don’t know how long it took me to doze off, but it felt like I had just closed my eyes before I was being picked up and carried to bed. I murmured something; I don’t know if it made any sense but I felt a rumble of laughter in Miles’ chest.

He settled me into the bed and like the night before, slid into bed behind me, hand on my hip. The two dogs jumped up and make themselves at home and it all felt like a vague but pleasant dream. 

This time when I woke with a start, sobbing, the two dogs were in easy reach and Miles pulled me into his body, his voice roughened with sleep, “Same dream?”

I curled into his chest, “yes, but this time Gordie was there too.” Miles just grunted and wrapped his arms around me tight. Somewhere deep in the ether, I heard Granny L cackle. 


	3. Part 3

I awoke the next morning with some serious deja vu. Miles was on his back, the soft rumble of his snores vibrating his chest and I was once again wrapped around him like wisteria vine. The light coming through the windows was grey and weak, so I snuggled into the big hard body I was wrapped around and promptly fell asleep again.

The second time I woke up, the light was bright and flooding the room. Miles was trying to untangle himself from my limbs without waking me up. My voice was sleepy and all my words ran together, “Whereyougoing?”

“I’ll be back in a second.” 

“Mmm” I let him go and rolled over. 

When Miles returned, he slid back into bed and rolled me back against his body.

I burrowed my face into his chest and tried to heave a large sigh. My ribs protested.

Miles brushed some hair out of my face. “Today will probably be the worst day for muscle soreness, but we should try and get you to move a little bit.”

A disgruntled noise came from the general area of my mouth. I was dragging my fingers idly over his ribs when he flinched. I paused and looked up at him, “Miles Wood, are you… ticklish?”

A muscle jumped in his jaw and I could tell he was gritting his teeth when he shook his head no. I ran my fingers over the same spot and he didn’t flinch, but his muscles tightened. “You can’t lie to me.”

His diaphragm pushed out a sigh, “Yes I’m ticklish, but I don’t really like it.”

“Fair enough.” I leaned over and kissed the spot. When I looked up, Miles had arched one eyebrow, a little smirk playing across his lips.

“What?”

“Are you going to kiss all my ticklish spots?”

I set my head down on his chest again, “Maybe one day.”

“When?”

It was my turn to give him a little smirk, “When you get a Gordie.”

“Well, I suddenly feel very inspired.”

I wrapped my leg around his and I couldn’t get any closer to him without actually climbing inside his body, “Do you have plans today?”

“Mmhmm, workout, skate, then I have some errands to run, why?”

“So, I honestly thought I would be back home by now, since I did not anticipate you being party to my family’s psycho dysfunction, I need to get some stuff.”

“Ok. Do you have enough stuff to get through today?”

“Can I use your washing machine?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I keep that shirt you gave me to wear?”

His chest shook with a chuckle, “yeah”

“Then, yes. I can get through most of today if we can go when you get back from your stuff?”

“Yeah, we can do that. Alright, I’m going to take these dogs out.” Miles kissed the top of my head and peeled me off of his body. 

“I can go too!” I struggled to sit up and I got an amused look from Miles, who responded “Maybe tonight, but I’m going to take them out for a longish walk after they eat breakfast, since I’m going to be gone for 5 or 6 hours and I don’t want you to try and take them out by yourself .”

I frowned, “Fine. That probably makes sense.”

Miles slipped his hand under the curtain of my hair and tipped my chin up for a chaste kiss, “Go back to sleep. Your body needs the rest while you heal.”

I got up to pee and took some more of the prescribed pain medication and muscle relaxers. I didn’t think I’d be able to fall back asleep, but I did and when I woke up the dogs were passed out on the bed with me and it was well after 10 am. 

I texted Luci,  _ Still alive _ .

_ LucilleBall: Excellent. I’d be sad if you died. Miles asked me about buying you a new car and I laughed until I peed a little and told him you’d never go for it.  _

_ He already brought that up and I had a similar reaction with more yelling and less laughing. _

_ LucilleBall: Ok. I get it. I do. If Mac wanted to buy me a new car, I wouldn’t let him. 1) because I’m never replacing Edna and 2) I’m a strong independent woman. But hear me out: _

The little dots appeared and disappeared and I didn’t give her a chance to finish before I sent my response. 

_ No.  _

_ LucilleBall: ok but he makes more money than you and you’re going to get exactly $5 for the Volvo. And he hit you! _

_ No. I’ll manage. And he hit me thanks to Granny Lucille. She should buy me a new car. _

_ LucilleBall: Maybe this is her way of replacing the Volvo! Why are you so dumb and stubborn!? _

_ IM NOT DUMB.  _

_ LucilleBall: That’s not what I meant and you know it. _

I didn’t reply. 

The medication had a head start thanks to my late morning and the fact that I was only being fueled by spite and rage. I got up and gathered my dirty clothes to toss them into Miles’ washer. Once that was done, I took an actual shower in Miles’ giant walk-in with forty thousand showerheads. I washed my hair really well and threw in a deep conditioner while I attempted to shave my legs and other parts of my body. The pain of trying to bend in totally normal ways just refueled the tank of rage that all this energy was coming from. I was mad at my family, I was mad at Granny Lucille, and I was a little mad at Miles. He shouldn’t feel obligated to buy me a car and he should be running far far away from this dysfunctional mess I called family. Also, my feelings for him were becoming conflicted at best and definitely complicated at worst. 

By the time I had reached all the places I could with a razor and rinsed the conditioner out of my hair, my rage had dissipated and all I felt were sore muscles and exhaustion. 

I towel dried my hair best I could and combed some product through it. Wrapping the towel around myself, I went to move my laughable amount of laundry from the washer to the dryer. 

My choice of attire while the other clothes dried was parsimonious. I ended up barefoot in a comfortable pair of jeans and a bra that was not my favorite because it was made to be seen and not worn. It was a black lace and mesh contraption with an underwire akin to a medieval torture device and it was unlined so the lace chaffed my poor nipples. It was great if I was trying to get laid because it made the girls look fantastic and my nips were always on alert. It sucked for comfort. My other option was to go digging around in Miles’ drawers looking for another T-shirt and even though we were sleeping in the same bed, that felt like a privacy violation. 

After about 30 seconds, it became clear the bra was a no go. The underwire pressed against the seatbelt bruise across my sternum uncomfortably. 

The rage in my belly had disapated, I was shaved, I was showered, the laundry was in the dryer and what the fuck good where clothes anyway? I pulled off everything I’d struggled to put on and climbed back into Miles’ bed for a nap. 

I didn’t wake until I felt the bed depress with a human weight. The dogs had taken up residence on either side of my legs and I was smack in the middle of the large king sized bed. 

“Are we napping? Cool.” Miles kicked off his shoes and stripped down to his ridiculously sexy boxer briefs before sliding under the covers with me.

My chuckle ended up as a bunch of air being blown through my nostrils as my injured torso rejected any type of laughter. “What time is it?”

“About 2. I figure traffic is going to be awful soon so we can just go after dinner or something. Or I can go if you tell me what you need.”

Miles’ hand slid across my stomach, I watched his expression change, understanding dawning on him, as he moved his hand down and then up just under my breasts. “Are you… are you naked?”

“Mmmhmm. I was waiting for the clothes to dry and a naked nap just seemed like the thing to do.”

He sucked his lip through his teeth and rolled to his back, tucking his hands behind his head as a very obvious bulge emerged beneath the bulky duvet. His eyes were all but glowing a shade of green normally reserved for phosphorescent algae. 

“Are you mad?”

It was his turn to chuckle, though it came out more like a sharp exhale, “Am I mad? Am I mad that there is a fucking gorgeous woman in my bed naked? A fucking phenomenal smart-mouthed little minx that looks like she stepped right off the side of a World War II dog fighter? A fucking woman so goddamn hot, who has tattoos in places I’m sure I haven’t seen yet? Yeah I’m a little mad.”

I opened my mouth to protest but he kept going, “I’m mad because all I want to do is bury my face between her fucking legs and make her cum so many times that she can barely hold herself up when I flip her over and fuck her so hard we both see stars.”

My voice came out like a breathless whisper, “Oh. Yeah. You should definitely definitely do that.”

Miles slipped his arm underneath my back and rolled me toward his body. His free hand grabbed my wrist and he centered my palm over a very, very hard part of his anatomy, “Trust me when I say I think about that all damn day and I have to take showers cold enough for polar bears. But Jen, you were in a car accident, can you imagine having an orgasm without wincing?”

Of all the dumbass things… I just wanted Miles Wood to shove his goddamn snarky tongue between my thighs and work his long talented fingers so far up my vagina that I couldn’t help but fucking cum all over his face. I felt a ripple across my pelvis and my abs contracted. I winced. Oh. Oh yeah… Orgasms used those muscles. 

He sighed, “Exactly.”

I dipped my fingers under the waistband of his Calvins and he grabbed my wrist again, “Don’t”

“Just because my life has to suck for the next few weeks doesn’t mean yours has to.” I slipped my hand around him and Wood’s wood was more than I expected. He was long and thick and this was going to be torturous for me because I wanted that fucking cock inside of me.

I squeezed the shaft and Miles moaned. I slid my hand up the length and smeared the precum around his head with my thumb. His skin was soft and I took my time, enjoying the sensation of the skin sliding over the hard organ. I let him go and slipped my hand down cup his testicles. Miles Wood was definitely a manscaper. He may not have been completely shaved or waxed, but it was enough. I rolled his balls between my fingers and he put both hands behind his head. He let out a breath that sounded a lot like “shit.”

I shoved the duvet down and worked his boxer briefs over his hips and laid my head on his stomach so I could watch while my hand explored him. He had a fucking gorgeous cock. It was thick at the base and tapered into a beautiful flared head with just the slightest upward curve along the entire shaft. Being fucked by it would be an *experience.*

While I rolled his scrotum between my fingers, I pushed myself up on my free arm and sucked the head of his cock into my mouth. Miles gave a strangled grunt and started to protest, but I just sucked more of him down. My abs protested, but he tasted so good, salty, sweet and Milesy and I knew the pain would be worth it.

Any kind of bobbing was out of the question, so I continued to massage his balls while I sucked down as much of him as I could and stroked him with my tongue.

“Shit.. fuck, Jen..” He propped himself up on an elbow and pushed my hair out of the way so he could see. “Oh, that is hot.”

I felt his testicles tighten in my hand as the head hit the back of my throat. I swallowed and Miles lost it. He held my head in place as he thrust up into my mouth a few times before starting to cum. Ropes of it shot down my throat and I swallowed it all, gently squeezing every last bit out of his balls.

Miles collapsed back into the pillows and I hollowed my cheeks and sucked his softening cock as I let him go. I put my head back on his stomach, his now soft wet dick limp against the v in his pelvis.

He started stroking my hair, “That was… I…What?” He stuttered through the beginning of at least three sentences as I pulled his Calvins back over him. “I mean, are you ok? That had to hurt?”

I shrugged the shoulder I wasn’t laying on, “Worth it.”

Miles grabbed me under the arms and hauled me up his body so I was laying on top of him naked. He slid a hand under the curtain of my hair and brought my lips to his. 

The kiss started off soft and chaste, but I licked my way into his mouth so he could taste his cum on my tongue. He moaned and fisted his hand in my hair, rolling us as carefully as he could so he was laying on top of me, his hips between my legs. 

He plundered my mouth like he was trying to lick every last drop of his cum out of it.

I ran my hands up his arms and trailed my fingers down his back. He was fucking shredded and the amount of power his big body possessed was unfathomable to me. I just wanted all of it to be used to fuck me into tomorrow and I was wondering if it was worth it just to say “fuck the ribs” and go for it. 

Miles broke the kiss and buried his face into my neck, nosing against my jaw as he murmured, “It’s not worth it.”

“What?”

“You’re thinking, ‘Fuck, I want his cock, ribs be damned.’”

“Maybe.”

“It’s not worth it and God, I want to. I want to so bad, but if you’re going to be in pain, I won’t do it.”

My entire fucking pussy was sopping and it ached, “Then maybe you should have thought of that before crawling into bed all… hot, and muscley, with that amazing fucking cock.”

He chuckled into my neck, “And miss what might have been the best blow job in my entire fucking life? No. You don’t do that for all your favorite hockey players, do you?”

I smacked his shoulder, “Who says you’re my favorite player? Maybe I just wanted you for your body.”

“Good, nothing is wrong with your eyesight, then. Cause my body is rockin’”

I sighed and shifted underneath him so more of his weight was resting on my body, “Oh, so you own a mirror and your ego is healthy and intact, good to know.”

Miles sucked gentle kisses down the column of my throat and I wrapped my arms around his back and tried fruitlessly to pull him down on top of me, “No,” he breathed, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“But I like it.” I may or may not have been whining, at this point.

“Does it hurt at all?”

“No, you stupid popsicle, I’m just laying here like a lump because it’s fun.”

He lifted his head, “Did you just call me a stupid popsicle?”

“Maybe.”

Miles gently lowered most of his weight on top of me until he was like a giant, warm 200lb anxiety blanket and I gave a contented sigh. “You are so weird, Jennifer.”

“Whatever. If I can suck your balls dry while I’m basically an invalid, just think of the fun we can have when I’m not.”

He gave a tortured groan into my hair and I just smiled, “Exactly, now you know how I feel.”

Miles propped himself up on an elbow and gently brushed the hair out of my face, “Would you think it’s weird if I told you I feel like God put you in my way the other day?”

I bit my lip and tried very hard not to laugh, because the final piece of the mask Miles wore was coming off before my eyes. I may have been naked physically, but he was completely naked emotionally; there was no trace left of that irksome facade he would put on in public, none of the ego or posturing or phony face “on”-ness that I loathed so deeply . It was unnerving, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure how to respond. I cleared my throat, “Granny Lucille will be tickled pink you think she is God.”

“Seriously, Jen.”

“I’m being deadly serious.” The piece of the mask moved back into place and I lamented the loss. “Seriously, ask Mac about her one day.”

“So what I believe to be divine intervention, you’re writing off as your dead grandmother.”

I pulled Miles’ face down for a chaste kiss, “Who’s to say God isn’t working through Granny L?”

Miles relented and rolled off of me and I whimpered at the loss of his body weight. He pulled me into his body and his free hand trailed over every inch of me he could reach.

“Do you still want to nap?”

I sighed, “Not really, unless the nap comes after being fucked into oblivion by that fucking majestic wrench you’re packing and I pass out from having so many orgasms.”

Miles just smirked and captured my lips with his, “The best things are worth waiting for.”

I wasn’t sure if he meant me waiting for him, or him waiting for me, or both really. 

We lay like that for a few minutes, Miles with one arm around me and the other behind his head. 

Finally, it became clear neither of us was going to nap and my stomach grumbled.

Miles looked down at me an arched a brow, “Blacky says his girl never eats, do you two share the same eating habits?”

I shrugged.

“Jen, you have to eat with those pills. When was the last time you ate something?”

“Ummmm.”

“That is the wrong fucking answer. Crap on toast.” Miles rolled out from under me and stood up. “I’m getting your clothes out of the dryer and then we’re going to go get your stuff from your parent’s place and we’re getting food on the way.”

“What about the dogs?” I called after him.

“FUCK.”

When he came back he dumped my clothes on the bed, “Do you need help getting dressed?”

“No, I can manage.” I pulled the sheets up my chest, Mad Miles wasn’t someone I had experienced yet and I didn’t know if I liked him.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, “Will it take 500 hours?”

“Well yeah Miles, because I have cracked ribs and bruise that makes it look like I was in a car accident, WHICH I WAS. I don’t understand why you are being like this.”

“Because you need to eat something!”

“And yelling at me is going to make that happen faster?!”

“FUCK. I DON’T KNOW.”

He sat down on the bed and I pulled the sheet up higher, “Look at me, Miles.”

His eyes were the color of a churning sea, and guilt was etched across his face. “Why don’t you take the boys out for a quick walk around the block and by the time you get back I’ll be ready to go, ok?”

“Ok,” he nodded, “but don’t take any more of those pills until we get some food in you, ok?”

“I promise I’ll bring them with me, but I won’t take any.”

Miles pulled on some clothes and grabbed the dogs’ leashes. They sat up from the bed, interested, but were too lazy to move, “Gordie, Deke.. Let’s go, boys!”

As the three of them disappeared, I set about putting on clothes. 

10 minutes later, I had my hair in a messy bun and I was about as presentable as an invalid could be in shorts and a t-shirt. I was in the kitchen straightening up the debris of Hurricane Miles when the dogs trotted back in and I could hear Miles hanging the leashes up by the door. I was wiping down the counter when he came into the kitchen.

He didn’t say anything, just stood there with his hands on his hips and a terrifyingly angry look on his face. I opted to finish wiping down the counter and ignore whatever foul mood he was in. I pasted a fake smile on my face, “Ready to go whenever you are.”

Miles snatched up the bag that was sitting by the door and stalked into the two car garage. Inside was a bright red BMW X1.

“Well, this is a nice rental while your other car gets fixed.”

“It’s not a rental,” he growled.

“Oh. Um, Ok. Not exactly a car I pictured you driving is all.”

The smile on Miles face was sinister, “oh it’s not my car, it’s yours.”

I got into the car and winced as I buckled the seatbelt. Once he was in and backing out of the garage, I spoke. “I’m not having this conversation with you again, so I hope you enjoy your second car.”

Miles’ knuckles were white as he pulled into the flow of traffic on a busy road, “Care to make a wager?”

“Not particularly, but if I win, will you give up about the car and tell me why you are being such a fucking asshole today?”

He nodded, “Your terms are acceptable. If you can tell me the last thing you ate, and it wasn’t the sandwich I brought you yesterday, you don’t have to accept the car.”

I opened my mouth about to tell him just how wrong he was, but I sat back in my seat, defeated, and huffed out a quiet “Fuck.”

“Fucking hell, Jen,” His hand hit the steering wheel so hard the entire dash rattled.

“Can you please not break my new car that you bought me?”

Miles let out an audible breath, “I’m like 15 seconds from pulling this car over and just turning your ass fucking purple.”

I glowered at him, “While I’m sure that might be enjoyable under some circumstances, I don’t think ANGER is one of them, Miles. What the fuck is wrong with you today?”

If I thought his anger was slightly scary before, it was nothing like when he sucked all that energy back into himself.

“I’m mad because you haven’t eaten in almost 36 hours and I didn’t realize, when I told your family I would keep an eye on you, I’d have to feed you twice a day like the dogs!”

I gasped, “Fuck you.”

He sighed, “I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at myself. I grab a bite to or from workouts or skates, or sometimes I eat with the guys. I didn’t realize that the women in your family just… don’t fucking eat. Which, like, boggles my mind because neither you nor your sister is super thin.”

I gasped again, “Are you accusing me of being fat in the literal same sentence you’re accusing me of being anorexic?”

“NO. FUCK. None of this is coming out the way I mean. Fuck, forget it.”

“NO. Not ‘forget it.’”

Miles pulled into a McDonald’s drive thru. “What do you want?”

“We’re in the middle of an argument about eating, and you want me to eat? Have you EVER had a girlfriend before?”

His knuckles turned white on the steering wheel again, “Fuck, Jen.”

We sat in tense silence until we got up to the order box. As he unrolled his window, he briefly looked over at me before repeating tersely, “Are you going to tell me what you want?”

I crossed my arms and didn’t say anything.

“Fucking shit, you are fucking impossible,” he muttered under his breath before ordering.

“Yeah, can I get a large fry and a chocolate shake please?”

He pulled up in the drive- thru line and after he asked me to punch the address into the GPS, we waited in silence.

When the food was passed through the window, he handed me the drink and the bag.

I sighed, “These aren’t for you, are they?”

“Nope.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, “You’re good, but don’t think I’m not mad at you because I’m eating this.”

“Wouldn’t fucking dream of it, you’re eating because you haven’t EATEN FOOD IN THIRTY SIX FUCKING HOURS.”

I threw a fry at him and it smacked his cheek before disappearing between the seat and the center console.

“Fucking seriously? This car is barely 2 hours old and there’s already a fry down the seat crack?”

The silence stretched again, though it was less fraught and more comfortable than before.,It had an easy intimacy to it, which I considered while I sat, dunking the fries into the milkshake and eating them. “For the record, I prefer vanilla.”

It was just a twitch, but I swear I saw the corner of Miles’ lips lift and I realized something: this entire time, he had been fucking raw with me. No pretense, no mask, just Miles and whatever he had been feeling.

I dunked another fry and ate it before I spoke again, “Can I ask you something?”

Miles sighed reluctantly before he responded, “It is going to make me want to drive into oncoming traffic and/or spank you?”

I shrugged, “Probably, but will it help if I share something first?”

He parroted my response in a way that was only slightly sarcastic, “probably.”

“ I told you a little bit of why I liked you as a player . But, I didn’t tell you everything. You are so ridiculously genuine when you play hockey. Every emotion, every feeling, everything is just on your face the entire time you play. When I met you at the greyhound event and for those promo shoots, that guy… didn’t exist. It was like you were a shell or wearing a mask. For someone like me, who notices things like that, who makes it a point to be genuine, it just really rubbed me the wrong way. And I know you can control it, you make the choice to put that mask on. So, that’s why I didn’t like you after that event.” I spit all of this out in one go, almost as if I didn’t say it then, I never would. Part of me couldn’t believe I had. I toyed with a french fry for a minute and when Miles didn’t say anything, I spoke again. “Now that I’ve given you some truth, it’s your turn. Why are you so grumpy today?”

Miles was silent for a long time, “I don’t like that I’m the reason you’re in pain. I don’t like this feeling of obligation to take care of you, worse that I *want* or have this intense desire to take care of you. When I realized you hadn’t eaten in that long, I felt like it was my fault. I absolutely HATED walking in on you cleaning up my kitchen and my mess when you’re supposed to be resting and I’m supposed to be taking care of you. You are always,  _ always _ , taking care of other people and never taking care of yourself. You were about to put your awesome business and investment in yourself on hold to go into debt to buy a car that you needed to buy because I destroyed the one you had.”

He pulled into the driveway of the house where I grew up and put the BMW in park before turning in the seat to face me, “You’re right when you say I put on a mask. I do. I don’t like interacting with fans that much. To me, it’s the cost of getting to play a game I love for a lot of money as an actual career, but I don’t want you to ever think that it’s directed at you.”

I unbuckled my seatbelt and went to get out of the car (the door handle WORKED), but Miles touched my arm, “And maybe you’re being genuine, but part of me wonders: the hair, the tattoos, the make up, the pinup girl look- is that really you? Or are you just trying to get any attention you can because all of your siblings are ‘more successful?’” 

He made the little air quotes with his hands, but it didn’t make me feel better. That was a truth I had known for a long time, but I didn’t like the idea that it was so apparently obvious to everyone else, let alone Miles, who I’d met all of three days ago. While I was lost in thought for a minute, and because I moved at the approximate speed of a slug in winter, Miles beat me around the car to the door and he pulled me out of the seat. He didn’t move back when I stood up, and our bodies were touching. Instead, he used the crook of his forefinger to lift my chin so he could look at me in the eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the ridiculously sexy rockabilly look, but you look just as good on the couch in my fucking shirt without any makeup on.”

I fisted my hands in his t-shirt and stood on my tip toes in my mismatched converse to kiss him. I honestly had no idea how to respond; I was flooded with a variety of emotions, and I hoped a kiss would express all of them. 

He broke the kiss and turned me toward the front door, “Go get your stuff. At least 3 days worth, please.” 

Fifteen minutes later, I had actual clothes I could wear and I had traded out the one red Converse for the black one so I was wearing a matching pair of shoes. 

Miles was leaning against the BMW when I came out of the house. He looked good enough to eat, all 6’2” of lean, muscular power. I wondered what he would do if he knew I looked at him like most men looked at cars, wondering about the performance capabilities. 

He pushed off of the car and grabbed my bag, which was more full than it had been a few days ago, “Did you get everything you need?”

“Yep.”

“Uh, any of those Wood shirseys in there?” He cleared his throat and tugged on the zipper to sneak a peek.

I made a grab for the bag, but considering my current speed was “Beat in a foot race by a blue haired lady with a walker,” he easily moved out of my reach.

“Is that a yes?”

Propping a hand on my hip, I answered, “Would you be able to keep your hands off me if there were?”

He frowned, “Probably not.” He tossed the bag in the backseat and opened my door for me (The door handle on the outside worked too!)

I slid into the luxurious leather seat and waited for Miles to round the front of the car. When he did, he bent over the seat and tried to stick his big hand into the crack between the leather and center console.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for that damn fry.”

**Well, he won’t find it.** I turned my head and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Granny L chewing on that fry with a content look on her face.

“Pretty sure it’s gone forever, handsome.”

“Handsome?”

I buckled my seatbelt, “Well, you are, aren’t you?”

French fry long forgotten, he slid into the seat, “Well yeah, I think so, but it’s good to know you think so too.”

After he backed into the street and started driving, I grabbed his hand and wove our fingers together, “Where to now, handsome?”

A grin stretched across his face, “The grocery store, so you know there is food in that fridge for you.”

I squeezed his hand, “Does this mean I have to eat like, super healthy kale salad and crap?”

Miles brought our hands to his mouth and he pressed his lips to the back of mine, “Beautiful, you can get whatever you want. I will be happy if you eat more than once every 36 hours.”

Once we got to the grocery store, we had a minor domestic in the produce section because I decided I wanted to make Pesto and Miles was adamant I would not be on my feet cooking when I should be resting, no matter how easy pesto was to make. 

We had another minor domestic when the tiny cart I had filled with mostly junk food and a few single serve salads rang up to over $100 because Miles insisted on going to the most expensive grocery store in Hoboken and then wouldn’t let me pay for any of it. 

When we got out to the car, Miles put the groceries in the back seat. As I pulled the door open, his big hand pushed it closed, ripping the handle from my fingers. His hard body pushed me against the small SUV and his lips came down on mine in a bruising kiss. Once he was done fully violating my mouth with his tongue, he kissed down the side of my neck, “Why are you so fucking infurating and why the fuck does it turn me on so much?”

I stuck my hands in the back pockets of his jeans and jerked his pelvis against me and then immediately winced, “I don’t know, but if I didn’t feel like I’d been run over by a train, we would be fucking in this car right here in this parking lot.”

Miles bit the crux of my shoulder, “Why do you have to say shit like that?”

I opened my mouth to ask him what he meant, but before I could, he took my hand out of one of his pockets and pressed it to the hard ridge of cock that was resting under his fly and kissed me again.

**In a parking lot? Really dear? Children could see.** I ripped my mouth away from his, “This feels like tempting fate.” He rested both hands against the car, caging me in and shielding me from prying eyes.

“Probably, but you drive me crazy in the best and worst ways.”

He opened the car door for me and I slid into the chocolate leather seat.

**He did a nice job with the car** . I’m sure he had help didn’t he Granny? 

**Maybe a little nudge here and there.**

Miles slid into the driver’s seat and pointed us in the direction of his house.

“So am I going to get to drive my own car at some point?”

“Am I with you in this scenario?”

“Does that change the answer”

“Yup.”

I wanted to laugh but it came out as a snarf instead when my abs rebelled, “Weird flex but ok caveman.”

Miles grabbed my hand and kissed the back of it, “You like it when I go a little caveman.”

I shrugged, “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.”

My phone decided that was enough of that conversation and buzzed with a text from Luci.

_ LucilleBall: How is my favorite sister? _

_ How would I know? Jill literally never bothered to return my calls or texts since the day of the accident. _

_ LucilleBall: First of all, you’re my favorite sister. Second of all, She may have like 6” and 50lbs on me but I will FUCK HER UP. What the shit? _

_ What are you going to do to Joshy then? _

_ LucilleBall: I mean… at least Josh looked you over and gave you pills and set you up with Miles. _

_ GURL. Let’s be real, this entire Miles situation was Granny Lucille’s grand plan _

_ LucilleBall: Fair. She is a meddlesome cow. _

_ She’s going to shatter Mac’s mirror again for that. _

I could hear Luci’s sigh all the way from Canada.

_ LucilleBall: Speaking of Miles, how are things? _

_ A lady doesn’t kiss and tell. _

_ LucilleBall: THERE’S BEEN KISSING? _

_ Maybe. _

_ LucilleBall: Maybe this will calm Mac’s jealous streak. He was convinced that I was going to meet Miles and get all gaga over his chiseled chin and pretty eyes. _

_ That’s not all that’s pretty... _

_ LucilleBall: JENNIFER LOUISE SMITH. Have you seen it? Is it nice? _

_ A LADY DOESN’T KISS AND TELL. _

_ LucilleBall: DUDE I HAVE GIVEN YOU INTIMATE SEX DETAILS ABOUT ME AND MAC. _

_ Yeah well, you’re a Slutty McSlutson. I’m gonna start calling you Blanche. _

_ LucilleBall: OK DOROTHY. _

_ Dorothy was badass. But, if I am anyone, I am Sophia. _

_ LucilleBall: Rose. _

_ Well that’s just a bald-faced lie. _

_ LucilleBall: So like what’s the deal then? Like are you dating? Can we double date!? _

_ Slow your roll. It’s been 3 days and I’m basically immobile from the waist up. But he walked in on me while I was in the bath and he was NAKED. I WANT TO CLIMB HIM LIKE A SET OF GODDAMN MONKEY BARS. _

_ LucilleBall: There’s something about being with a hockey player. I just…I will warn you, we have been here for five days and Mac refuses to have sex in his parents’ house and I am going to make him drive me out into rural Ontario and I don’t even care if we get eaten by meese. _

_ It’s just moose Luci… The plural of moose is just moose. _

_ LucilleBall: That’s wrong. Goose—> Geese, Moose—>Meese. It just makes sense. _

_ You’re ridiculous and they will trample you to death but they are herbivores. Canada does have wolves, though. Big ones! LOVE YOU BYEEEEE. _

_ LucilleBall: You know what? Hashtag worth it. I’d literally risk getting eaten by wolves for Mac’s dick. _

_ Whoa. Magic Mac. _

_ LucilleBall: You have NO idea. _

I let out a chuckle as Miles pulled into his garage. “Something funny?”

“Oh… just my sister is completely addicted to Mac’s dick.”

Miles made a face, “I... didn’t need to know that.”

“She wanted to know if I was addicted to yours.” I gave Miles some side eye, waiting to see what his reaction would be.

That ridiculously sexy smirk spread across his face, “Not yet.”

I sighed, “With all that hype, I really hope I’m not disappointed, bud.”

He shook his head, “If you weren’t broken, I’d drag you right over the console of this car.”

“That sounds like it would be a good time, don’t tease me, Woody.”

He didn’t answer, just fiddled with the keys in his hand for a few seconds, “Come on, let’s get the 5 gallons of ice cream you bought into the freezer.”

“Two pints is not 5 gallons. I’m starting to suspect your college education was a little lacking.” 

“I mean… an 11 million dollar contract doesn’t lack much.” Miles grabbed all the grocery bags in one hand. Fucking showoff.

“Ok. Well, not all of us can play hockey for a bajillion dollars.”

“Well, I mean, if we’re talking bajillions, I’m no Crosby.”

He waited for me to creep (heave? creave?) my way up the steps and into the kitchen. We were greeted by two bouncing greyhounds and if I wasn’t broken, I would have cuddled them on the floor, but instead, I plopped down on the couch.

“How are my sweet boys? Were you good while we were gone?” A greyhound tongue made its way into my mouth and I blanched. “Ugh.”

Miles was putting away the groceries, “What do you want for dinner?”

“Well, I wanted pesto spaghetti.”

“Don’t fucking start, Jen.”

“I’ll fucking start if I want to. It’s not that hard to make.”

“Fucking shit. I’m gonna order a pizza and feed the dogs.”

I was currently pulling on one end of a toy while Gordie, in an unusual fit of greyhound energy, pulled on the other, then immediately let go when I realized playing tug of war required more core strength than I currently possessed which was zero. “Pizza? Is that on your offseason diet?”

“For the love of all that is holy, stop chirpin’ me, woman.”

“No. It’s fun.”

Miles came over to the couch and pushed me back against the cushions, his arms framing me and snagged my lips for a kiss.

I made a big show of licking his bottom lip and swirling my tongue in his mouth.

He broke the kiss and sat back on the coffee table, “One of those dogs totally licked you in the mouth, didn’t they?”

“Yep. Could you taste it?”

“No, you’re just not usually that aggressive of a kisser.”

I kicked my shoes off and laid down on the couch, “I think it’s weird that I basically didn’t know you three days ago and now you know how I kiss to the point that you know when I’m doing something different.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean. Since you took your shoes off,I take it that you don’t want to try and go for a walk with me and the boys tonight?”

I yawned, “It was an eventful afternoon.”

Miles handed me the remote, “K, well I’m gonna feed these beasts, order our dinner and then take them out for a bit, 20 minutes ok?”

I frowned, “I like how when I get to choose what we watch it’s 20 minutes, but when you’re watching Stranger Things, you binge for like 3 hours.”

“That’s because you fall asleep within 20 minutes.” Miles stood and kissed the top of my head.

I shrugged, “Fair.”

True to form, I was dozing with the remote in my hand and nothing playing when Miles and the boys came back from their walk. 

Gordie was settling in like he had been my dog his whole life and his favorite place to lay was between my legs on the couch with his head on my pelvis. Deke would lay on his back in the last open spot on the couch and there was nowhere left for Miles. 

Miles came out of the kitchen with two paper plates of pizza and then stopped, surveying the scene, “Well, if this is going to be a regular occurrence, I’m going to need a bigger couch.”

I petted Gordie’s head, “Oh don’t be dramatic. We’ll be out of your hair soon enough.” I arched my neck to look up at Miles and seemed to catch the tail end of a sad look on his face. “What’s up? What was that look?”

And just like that, it was gone, “Nothing.” Miles sat between the couch and coffee table and handed me my plate of pizza.

I bumped the back of his head with my elbow, “It’s not nothing, what is it?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” but his tone totally said that he did. I wanted to press, but given our deep conversations today, I figured the emotional well only went down so far.

I ate a slice of pizza and dozed off halfway through my second and woke up to Miles prying it from my fingers before one of the dogs stole it. He kissed my forehead, “I’m gonna go upstairs and work out a bit, then I’ll take the dogs out again.”

“Aren’t you supposed to wait half an hour,” I mumbled.

“You’ve been nodding off for the better part of an hour.”

“Oh.” I snuggled into the soft cushions on the couch. “Did you clean up after yourself or do I need to clean the kitchen?”

Miles rolled his eyes, “it’s clean, you weirdo.”

Both greyhounds lifted their heads and watched him walk up the stairs to work out. I contemplated ice cream, namely, how much I wanted it versus how much pain it would cause to stand up and get it.

It was then that I realized I had missed a painkiller dose-- which, in the scheme of things, was probably good. I wasn’t interested in getting hopelessly addicted to opioids, but it also meant that’s why I was in more pain than usual.

I struggled off the couch and made my way to the kitchen to take my pills, drink some water, and possibly eat some ice cream.

After fighting with the pill bottles (childproof my ass, more like everyone proof), I opened the fridge to grab the Brita pitcher. I noticed a half- dozen Coors Light bottles and paused. It wasn’t a nice Pinot Gris, but beggars can't be choosers. I put the pitcher back, grabbed a beer, and made my way into the bathroom. I was definitely going to use a glitter bathbomb, take my pain meds and muscle relaxers, and drink a beer in Miles’ bathtub.

Ten minutes later, I was up to my chin in purple water that smelled like eucalyptus and lavender. Yo Yo Ma was tinkering out of the tiny speakers on my phone and I had a beer in my hand. I really, really would have preferred the Pinot Gris, but, I hadn’t been thinking clearly at the grocery store. I was too busy verbally sparring with Miles.

I sighed and felt every single last sore muscle relax in the steaming hot water while I took another swig from the bottle. 

My eyes had drifted shut and I was in that pleasant place where I wasn’t exactly asleep but I wasn’t giving a single solitary shit about anything when Miles clattered into the bathroom, naked but for his headphones, again. 

I opened one eye and then I opened both eyes to appreciate the view. Miles pulled the headphones out of his ears, “See, this is why I don’t like bath bombs.”

Reaching behind me, I set the mostly empty bottle of beer on the counter behind my head, “Please elaborate.”

He narrowed his eyes and looked at the bottle, “Are you chasing your pain meds with alcohol, while in the bathtub?”

“That’s a Texas-sized 10-4.”

Miles sighed.

“Don’t get all preachy at me. I actually missed a dose today and that beer is basically water. Now, what exactly is wrong with my bath bomb?”

“Well, the water is purple. And opaque. I can’t see a damn thing”

“Opaque is a pretty damn big word for a hockey boy.”

Miles rolled his eyes before he glanced at the water again and narrowed them, “Is that glitter?”

“Uh yeah. That’s like the whole point of the bathbomb. Pretty colors, glitter, and in this case eucalyptus and lavender essential oils to help with muscle soreness.”

He heaved a sigh again, “Is my bathtub going to be purple and covered in glitter when you’re done?”

“Can confirm.”

“For fuck’s sake Jen.”

“Miles, I was having a lovely, relaxing, purple glittery bath, and while I enjoy looking at you, you’re harshing my buzz, bud.”

“Whatever, I’m not going back upstairs so you’re going to have to deal with me taking a shower in here. And, what are you listening to?”

“Bach’s Cello Suites, you uncultured swine.”

Woody’s wood had started to get hard the moment he came into the bathroom. He grabbed a new towel and started toward the giant walk-in shower with the full glass wall where I could see every-fucking-thing.

Miles hung the towel by the entrance and stepped into the spray of 4 different shower heads. The way I figured, one good shower head was more than enough; 4 was just excessive. He chose the shower head where his front faced me through the glass and I got an eyeful of Miles, all of him. Every last inch. His abdominal muscles stretched and grew taut as he lifted his arms to run his fingers through his wet hair. His dick was far more than half-mast and growing every second.

That big ass fucker knew exactly what he was doing. What a jerk. Miles proceeded to completely ignore me as I watched him wash his hair and then he conditioned it, because of course he did. His hair was amazing and I wanted to fist my fingers in it while he ate me out.

He didn’t look at me until he rubbed a bar of soap between his large hands, getting them sudsy before he ran them over his whole body. He ran his hands over every last inch of his body, and I know this for a fact, because I watched them.

Miles’ green eyes met mine as he fisted his hard cock in his hand and began to stroke it. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, this man was going to kill me dead. 

A strangled noise made its way out of me and Miles stepped toward the glass wall separating us. He placed his free hand on it and leaned forward while he stroked his cock. His eyes met mine again and I bit my lip. 

Miles kept eye contact while he stroked himself and I knew he was going to take this the whole way. This wasn’t some quick little tease of a show, he wasn’t going to stop until his cum was dripping down that glass. Which was, frankly, just a waste of cum. 

My nipples pebbled despite the warm water and I just knew my pussy was like a damn slip ‘n slide. 

I lifted my arms from the side of the tub to drop them in the water, but Miles tapped on the glass and shook his head, “If anyone makes you cum tonight, it’s going to be me.”

SPLOOSH. He was right. I did love it when he showed a little bit of caveman. 

I watched as Miles stroked himself. Watched how he twisted his hand at the base. Unlike some guys, he didn’t have a lot of loose skin around his dick and he used the soap as lubrication to slide his palm over himself.

Pulling the plug with my toe, the water in the tub started to drain. Miles arched a brow, giving me one of his stupidly hot smirks, and as the water level dropped, my body was revealed.

Glitter settled on my skin, twinkling in the low light, and Miles' nostrils flared. 

When it dropped below my breasts, I rolled my nipples between my fingers as I watched Miles stroke himself. The lather was squishing between his fingers and I hoped that bar was some sort of organic natural lotion bar or his poor dick skin was going to be ridiculously dry.

My body was covered with a sheen of purple glitter and the drain gurgled with the final suck of water. I bit my lip again, still playing with my nipples. With his fingers curled against the glass wall, he grunted as he came, ropes of his cum hitting it and dripping down, leaving a trail of milky fluid.

He finally broke eye contact, a quiet “fuck” falling from his lips. My well-medicated, loose-muscled, and slightly tipsy body managed to lurch upright and out of the tub (somewhat gracefully) and I made my way into the steam filled shower. 

My hair was up since I had just washed it and let the steamy water beat against my shoulders and back, rinsing the glitter off my body.

Miles turned and I crooked a finger at him. His eyes turned the color of a forest floor and I was amazed he didn’t just fall right down judging by the amount of cum on the glass. He crossed the huge shower in two steps, and I backed against the tile, letting the water sluice down his body. 

When I spoke my voice came out breathy and soft, “I don’t think that’s part of a Gordie Howe.”

That smirk crossed his face again, “Isn’t it? We fought, I got a goal, and now I’m going for the apple.”

I don’t remember reaching for his dick, but it was in my hands and I was wiping the suds from it. He started to get hard again as I cupped his balls, rolling them in my palm and stroked him. “So… no refractory period then?”

He stepped into my body and I had to drop my hands, “Not with you.” Miles cupped the back of my neck and pulled me against him before his mouth dropped to my lips.

He stopped before he kissed me, his voice nothing but a whisper, “How are you feeling?”

I slid my hands up his thighs and traced the V of his hips with my thumbs, “After some painkillers, a bath, and a beer? Five by five.”

“From Letterkenny to Buffy, that’s my girl.”

Miles pressed his lips to mine and his tongue slid inside. His kiss was relaxed and lazy, like he had all night to lick the inside of my mouth. He was hard against my belly and I gripped his hips and pulled him against me. Breaking the kiss, he chuckled, “Be patient.”

He reached behind me and turned the water off before grabbing the towel. I didn’t realize terrycloth could ever feel erotic but as Miles slid the fabric over my body, I thought I would spontenously combust. 

When he was done, he kissed me again and I took the towel from his hands and returned the favor. I got to touch and appreciate every inch of him and before I ran the towel over his body, I followed a rivulet of water down his chest and licked it away. Miles groaned and let out a breath, tilting his head back and looking up at the ceiling. 

I ran the towel over his body until the only thing left dripping wet was my pussy. Miles took it from my hands and tossed it on the floor, covering my mouth with his before I could protest. He took my hand and lead me out of the bathroom, not even sparing a glance to his beautiful white porcelain bathtub which was, in fact, now purple and covered in glitter. 

When we got to the bed, Miles picked me up like I 1) weighed nothing and I appreciated that since I knew for a fact I weighed a lot of somethings and 2) set me down with a gentleness I didn’t even know he or any man possessed.

I didn’t really want to break the news to him, but the moment was getting too tender and too raw, “I’m really sorry, but your sheets are going to be covered in glitter tomorrow.”

Miles settled on the bed next to me and kissed my shoulder, “If you think I give a fuck about that right now, you are insane.”

“Ok, but don’t say I didn’t warn ya,” I shrugged.

His mind was on something else and he palmed one breast, teasing the nipple with his fingers while he sucked the other one in to his mouth.

Gasping, I slid my fingers into his wet hair. Again, Miles acted like he had all night, his fingers slow and methodical, his tongue lazy as he paid attention to each breast. 

He move the hand from my breast down my stomach, his fingers tracing the patterns of my stretch marks, of which there were one or two, or twenty. I was self-conscious for about half a second before he shifted his body down, his tongue following the path of his fingers. 

His fingers slid into the small thatch of hair at the top of my slit and he paused, his lips creating a vacuum, and sucked a dark mark into the soft skin near my thigh. When he was satisfied with the mark, he slipped his fingers between my folds and groaned, “holy fuck, you are so wet.”

He played in the wetness for a few seconds before he found my entrance and sunk his middle finger into me. I arched into his hand, “Christ, Miles.”

I settled my hips back into the comforter with a small wince and hoped he didn’t notice, but he did, “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, just… don’t stop.”

He curled his finger inside of me and a small squeak escaped the corner of my mouth.

With the hand still tangled in his wet hair, I pushed on his head firmly, “Time to get that assist, dude.”

I didn’t have to even lift my head to know that stupid smirk was on his face. He slid two long fingers into me and my head pushed back into the pillows. 

He watched me for a moment as he corkscrewed his fingers in and out of me, scissoring them, and sliding in a third. He watched as he turned me into a whimpering mess before he settled his big body between my thighs, his arm coming across my hips to hold me in place.

Miles pulled his fingers out of me and licked them one by one, giving little grunts of satisfied pleasure as he did. When he was finished, he licked a stripe up my slit with a greedy moan. He flattened his tongue and lapped at me like a dog drinking water. My hips jerked against the steel bar of his forearm. 

Miles slowed his pace and took his time exploring every inch of my pussy with his tongue. I approached the crest a handful of times, but never spilled over the top. When he was satisfied he had explored every inch, he slid two fingers into me and licked my clit. I hurtled toward the edge and flew over it as he curled his fingers inside me. He kept his arm tight across me as I tried to arch into him and my hand fisted in his damp curls. I wasn’t sure if I was holding him to me or trying to pull him away, or both. Only when the last flickers of my orgasm died, with his name on my lips, did he stop.

He levered himself over my body and fitted his hips between my legs while he kissed his way up my torso. He dipped his tongue into my belly button and proceeded to trace the ugly yellow green bruise with feather-light kisses. 

I couldn’t do anything except trail my fingers over his ridiculously muscular arms and try to come back down to earth. Miles nuzzled my neck, “Are you ok? Did that hurt?”

“I’m ok. Totally worth it.”

He kissed the space behind my ear, “Are you sure? You’re not lying to me?”

I let my nails drag across his ample back muscles, “I’m 100% fine. It’s mostly just sore muscles.”

“So we could....”

“I mean… if you want.”

The sound that came out of Miles was more of a growl than a human noise, “If I want? Of course I want. Fifteen different ways. All day. All night.” He pushed his pelvis into me, Woody’s wood digging into my thigh to make his point. 

“Well, I guess you better put a glove on that then.”

He reached across my body and dug into the drawer of the night stand, pulling out a condom. I snatched it from his hand and tore it open with my teeth before I slipped my hand between us and rolled it on him.

Miles nosed at my ear before he captured my lips with his and lifted his hips so I could align the part of him I wanted inside me.

When I fitted the head of him to my entrance, Miles slid home in one hard push and swallowed my gasp with his own groan as his tongue circled mine.

Lifting my legs, I hooked my thighs over his hips. He broke the kiss and buried his face into my neck as he withdrew and started fucking me. “God, you feel so good.”

I didn’t have words to express how good Miles felt inside me, so I just answered with a breathless moan.

I reveled in his ability to fuck me slowly without breathing hard or breaking a sweat, just endlessly enjoying how we felt coming together. Under normal circumstances, I probably could have spent an entire afternoon letting Miles fuck me like that, but my cracked ribs and injured muscles were starting to protest. ‘I need more, Miles.”

He pulled out and rolled me over, hauling me to my knees, “Ok?”

I nodded, “Ok”

Nudging my legs apart, Miles settled between them and slid home again. This position let him hit new angles and I bit my lip and pushed back again him, “Oh my god, Miles, more.”

“More?”

I nodded again, “Yes.”

Miles started fucking me in earnest, the slap of our bodies the only sound other than a stray moan or grunt. He reached an arm around my hip and his fingers found my clit. “I need you to cum, babe.”

My gasp turned into a winded laugh, “Gotta earn that Assist.”

He snapped his hips against mine and I felt the sting of his palm hit my ass. “Fuck, I love being able to do that when you get smart.”

He smacked me again and the sensation shocked me, my orgasm catching me by surprise. “Fuuuck, Miles. Oh my god!”

I felt my pussy clamp down hard on his dick and he grunted, grabbing my hips and pulling me hard against him as he fucked me through both our orgasms. When he was finished, he collapsed on top of me, covering my body with his and wrapped his arms around me. My arms gave out and Miles rolled, slipping out of me and settled me against his chest.

“Holy shit.”

My heart rate was about 1000 bpm and all I could manage was a panting, “yeah.”

“Is sex always like that with you?”

“I don’t know? I don’t have sex with me?”

He tucked an arm behind his head, “Fuck.”

Miles pulled the clip out of my hair and spread it across his chest, “I should probably take care of the condom and rinse out the tub before it’s permanently purple.”

“Oh you noticed that, huh?”

“I may have been too preoccupied to say anything at the time, but yeah, I noticed.”

For some reason, a sense of foreboding settled inside me and I wasn’t normally the clingy girl, but I never wanted Miles to get up.

So, of course, he shifted me off of his chest and I let him, lest he actually think I was the needy clingy girl I felt like I was becoming at that moment.

He walked into the bathroom naked and even melancholy me could appreciate that ass. 

**Oh my god. This one is better than Mac**

Granny L, I really hope you’re just tuning into the Jiles channel.

She didn’t answer, which I didn’t take favorably. Tomorrow, I was calling an exorcist. This had to qualify for demonic possession, right?

Miles clattered around in the bathroom and I slid under the duvet. The dogs, who had made themselves scarce, magically appeared, both climbing on the bed.

When he came back, he slid under the covers with me and tucked me into his chest, pulling my leg over his. “I like waking up to you wrapped around me like a vine.”

With both dogs behind me and wrapped around Miles like a monkey, having just cum at least twice, I fell into a deep dreamless sleep. 


	4. Part 4

I woke with a start and something was wrong… different. Sunlight was streaming through the windows as I struggled to sit up. Both dogs were sleeping on their backs, Deke was snoring softly and Miles was gone.

There was a note on the night stand folded into a little A-Frame and the thought of Miles, writing me a note and then folding it to make it stand up so I’d be sure to see it, was the cutest thing. Smiling to myself, I unfolded it and started to read:

Hey, you’re lucky you’re cute when you snore. That hurricane that’s been crawling up the coast is supposed to hit us today. Nothing more than some rain and wind but I’m getting in a workout early. I walked the dogs and I’m going to stop by and get some stuff at the store on my way home. Please eat breakfast! >:(

I flopped back into the pillows and woke both dogs, who crawled up next to me for morning pets and cuddles. It was a poor substitute for waking up wrapped around Miles, but it was better than nothing. I had totally forgotten about that storm and I needed to make sure my laptop was topped off and my portable charger. I was well out of the woods for concussion-related complications and I needed to get some editing done.

  
  


It was almost noon when Miles came back and I was on the couch, TV tuned to the weather channel, wrapped in a blanket with my laptop on my lap as I edited photos.

There was no greeting, “Did you eat something?”

I held up the half-empty long-forgotten ready-to-go chocolate shake from some company that obviously sponsored Miles. There were 300 of these things in the fridge.

He sighed, “That’s not… You know what? I’ll accept that. Did you finish it?”

It was my turn to sigh, and I chugged the now room temperature shake and grimaced, “Yes.”

Miles didn’t say anything and when I took my eyes off my computer screen, he was looking up at the ceiling and his lips were moving. 

“Praying won’t help you. I’m a godless heathen.”

“Well, I’m not, and I’m praying for strength to deal with your stubborn ass.” He started unpacking the bags that were sitting on the counter. Little LED flashlights, batteries, bottled water, beer--the essentials.

“The storm doesn’t sound like it’s going to be that bad, Miles.”

He shrugged, “Needed these anyway. The rain is supposed to start late this afternoon. Want to try and go for a walk with the pooches and get them nice and tired before the storm? I found a dog park about a mile away.”

I turned back to my computer, “Sure. I’m going a little stir crazy, but I have so much work to catch up on.”

Miles finished putting things away and came and flopped next to me on the couch, “How long have you been working?”

“I don’t know, a couple hours?” I didn’t look at him and kept click, click, clicking different areas of the photo I was working on.

“Save what you’re working on.”

“Oh, good reminder,” I hit save and Miles’ big hand carefully closed my laptop and he pulled it out of my hands. “hey…”

“Ease into it. You probably had a head injury. Rest your eyes a bit.” 

I slouched against the couch cushions and pouted, “What if I don’t want to rest?”

He slid the laptop onto the coffee table and suddenly, I was underneath the big man. “Then I can think of something else to do.”

Miles dropped his mouth to mine and settled his hips between my legs. Where his hockey play was hard, fast, and physical, he was the exact opposite when it came to being intimate. Kisses were lazy and slow; he was patient and almost methodical. 

I slid a hand up the back of his shirt and he pushed it out, “Just making out.”

“Just making out? Who ARE you?”

I felt his stupid sexy smirk against the skin of my cheek, “The guy making out with you.” 

“Mm, maybe afterwards we could dry hump.” I grabbed his earlobe between my teeth and gave it a solid tug, letting the skin slide through my front teeth.

Miles’ breath hitched and he pushed his pelvis against me. I felt the hard ridge of him through my leggings. He adjusted his hips and did it again, and this time I gasped, “Oh. I was fucking kidding.”

He pushed my arms above my head and held my wrists with a hand, “I’m not.”

Pressing against me again, Miles dropped his head to capture my gasp with his mouth. He spent forever kissing me. His tongue slid into every crevice of my mouth while his hips rocked against me. With his free hand, he pushed my legs up around his waist and it changed the angle enough that the head of his cock hit my clit through the layers of clothes every time he moved against me. 

Sliding his hand up my t-shirt, Miles took one of my nipples and rolled it between his fingertips. When I started to fight for breath, he kissed me, swallowing my gasps as I came, bucking under his body. 

Miles broke the kiss with a satisfied grunt and buried his face into the side of my neck. 

My phone chose that moment to buzz twice with two incoming text messages. Miles sighed and picked it up off the table, handing it to me. Shifting his hips over my leg he wedged himself between my body and the back of the couch. 

I frowed when I saw who the texts were from.

_ Joshy: Checking in little sister. It’s been 3 days, how’s the head? _

_ JillyBean: Mom and Luci are yelling at me because I haven’t contacted you -personally- since your accident, but I’m getting updates through Joshua. _

My chest heaved with a sigh and I reached out to put the phone back on the table.

“You’re not going to answer?”

“No. Just my older siblings.”

“And?”

“And. I was in a car accident three days ago and this is the first time they’re reaching out?”

Miles tilted his head to the side, “Seriously?”

I sighed and closed my eyes, snuggling into Miles, “Seriously. I mean Luci checks in at least once a day. She’s updating my mom and dad. Josh said he was texting you, but you know how I was frantically calling people when we got into that accident?”

The answer was slow when it came, as if Miles knew he wasn’t going to like the answer, “Yeaaahh?”

“Jill never called or texted me back. I’ve literally not spoken to her in like 3 weeks.” 

Miles didn’t answer, and when I finally craned my neck to look up at him, his eyes were a stormy blue color and his mouth was a flat line.

“What?”

“Nothing. Let’s take a nap.”

I frowned, “It’s not nothing, why do you look mad?”

“Because your brother hasn’t been texting me. I texted him once just to let him know you were fine that first night. Luci blew up my phone for about 24 hours asking about you and then about Gordie, but that’s it.”

“I don’t understand why that’s making you mad.”

“Because I kind of feel like by letting you stay here and taking care of you, I enabled your family to ignore you and I’m mad about it.”

I squinted at Miles, “That’s incredibly introspective for a hockey guy. I know you’re all fancy and college-educated and shit, but I still feel like you should be more of a stereotype.”

He pressed his lips to my hair, “Promise me you’ll keep thinking that after I punch your brother right in the face. Depending on how mad I am, I might take out Jill too.”

Patting his arm and burrowed into his warm body, I giggled. Caveman Miles  _ was _ kind of sexy. “You’d just hurt your hand on his stupid meat head. This isn’t new behavior, Miles. Let it go.”

He got a thoughtful look in his eyes, “I don’t like the idea that you are not a priority to the people to whom you should be a priority.”

Arching a brow, I looked up at him, “I’m gonna need you to stop being all soft and introspective now and using phrases like ‘to whom.’”

The trademark Miles Wood smirk crossed his face, “Oh? Is it turning you on?”

I offered a nonchalant shrug and a smirk of my own, “Maybe.”

Miles levered his body over mine and stood up, pulling me with him, “C’mon, let’s go give these dogs a good long walk and then I have some ideas of how to spend this afternoon and evening while it storms.”

“Am I going to like these ideas?”

He nodded and answered in ridiculously fake falsetto, “Oh god, Miles YES. YES.” Miles dodged as I threw a pillow at him, “That sounds like agreeing to me.”

“Christ on a cracker. Let me put on a bra and some clothes.”

20 minutes later Miles and I were strolling down the block, he was holding both dogs in one hand and had grabbed mine to help me down the stairs of the front stoop and hadn’t let it go.

I was able to move a little bit now, just everything I did was predicated by a dull ache and sometimes a pain a little bit sharper. It was no worse than the worst day of my period, minus the bloat and the mood swings. I could handle that fine, I was just slower than molasses in the dead of winter

The dogs didn’t mind the slow pace, they stopped and sniffed every tree, bush, trash can, mail box, and fire hydrant on the way. We were quiet as we walked and it gave me time to think about how I was feeling about Miles now. The genuine person I saw every day now was amazing. He was sweet and kind but still had enough stubborn jackass in him to keep me on my toes. And in our own insulated domicile the past few days, I felt my own shell cracking, which was bad because I could definitely see myself falling for Miles, hard, fast, with no parachute. A small voice inside my head said I already had. The voice sounded a lot like Granny L, but I ignored it. She had been pretty scarce since my threat to exorcise her.

Miles was also pensive as we walked. His face was serene and almost happy, but a small line of worry furrowed his brow. He tugged on my hand, “Penny for your thoughts?”

I shrugged, “Judging by your expression, it’s probably the same thing you’re thinking about and I don’t know if want to talk about that just yet?”

“That’s fair,” he nodded. 

There were a few other dogs at the dog park, I guess ahead of the impending storm that was turning the sky a threatening shade of jade. Deke and Gordie did more than three laps at Mach 5, they did about ten and then played with the other dogs. The wind was starting to whip at our necks when they finally came back to us, with their tongues lolling out of their mouths. 

I don’t know if it was the sense of the looming storm, the awkward conversation Miles and I didn’t have, or some other feeling of unrest, but we all hustled back to Miles’ townhouse as fast as I could shuffle.

The dogs trotted into the house and flopped onto the couch as the first drops of rain hit the windows. Thunder rumbled in the far distance but neither dog so much as lifted a head.

I linked an arm through Miles’, “Will you be my Thunder Buddy?”

He had been pensive during the entire walk like he too was trying to figure out if we were in some weird bubble of domestic bliss, or if being together, for real, would be just as easy.

A smile spread across his face, but it didn’t reach his eyes, “Yeah, I’ll be your Thunder Buddy.”

While the wind pounded the rain sideways against the windows, Miles and I cuddled on the couch. There was an underlying tension that hadn’t been there before. An elephant in the room neither one of us was ready to admit existed, much less acknowledge to each other.

I knew what it was for me: unlike Luci, I wasn’t the ‘girlfriend’ girl; I had too many walls for that, after being constantly let down by my family. I wanted it with Miles, though. I wanted to wear his name and number, I wanted to do the most basic couple things. Go apple picking, take a drive through autumn leaves, hold hands while walking the dogs-- all of that gross romantic coupley stuff. 

It rankled me a little that he was probably right. The rockabilly style, the tattoos (to a certain extent), the makeup, the dyed hair: it was a form of self expression and I was saying ‘danger: stay away.’

But for the past few days, my hair was tossed into a messy bun, I lived in leggings and a tshirt, I hadn’t even pulled out the eyeliner pencil, and other than being a borderline invalid I didn’t feel like I needed those things. Therefore, I was being as naked and as raw with Miles as he was being with me. For the past three days it had just been us, no masks, no bullshit. 

Part of me wondered if it was possible for someone like him and someone like me to exist like that forever, but with the influence of the outside, people, media, just life, I doubted it.

He was that classically good-looking James Franco type with a freaking psalms tattoo. He would probably end up with some Plain Jane Mary Sue type that has a Eat, Pray, Love wall decal in her living room, but based on her size 2 jeans probably didn’t follow the Eat part of that advice, and I was a super tatted chubby artsy type that rocked life on the edge with zero fucks to give anyone.

I don’t know how many episodes had played while I had been zoned out. Hell, I didn’t even know what we were watching, but the Netflix guide was up and Miles was looking at me and not the TV. He looked conflicted, like he wanted to ask me what I was thinking about, but was scared I might actually tell him.

He didn’t say anything in the end, just scooped me up in his arms and made his way to the bedroom. 

There was an underlying intensity to Miles that I hadn’t seen before. It was tender, but almost desperate. He laid me onto the unmade bed and crawled over my body, his forearms framing my head as he pressed his lips against mine. They were hesitant at first, before I slid my fingers into his hair and kissed him back. He delved into my mouth with a groan and settled his weight on me. 

Miles shifted his hips, wedging them between my thighs. His hand pulled the elastic out of my hair and he wove his fingers into it behind my head, pushing me up into his lips. 

He kissed me like the was trying to memorize every detail. His other hand slid over my body, squeezing my breast, then my ass, giving me a body length caress from my shoulder to my thigh. 

I kissed him back with the same restlessness, my free hand tugging his t shirt up, hoping he’d get the hint. Breaking away, he pulled the shirt over his head and threw it behind him before falling back to my lips, kissing like he was a starved man.

I gave a contented sigh through my nose, running my hands over his back, feeling the muscles move under the skin as he rotated his pelvis into me, more by instinct and feel than any conscious decision. 

Trailing my fingers over his wide shoulders I traced down his arms and back up, skimming my fingertips over Miles’ side where I knew he was ticklish and he flinched, ripping his mouth from mine and burying his face into the side of my neck as he grumbled, “Fuckin Minx”

He grabbed my hand and pinned it over my head and I used the one that was still free to shove at the waistband of his joggers. Miles kissed the side of my neck before he latched his lips to a spot and started to suck a dark mark into the skin. I brought my hand up and slid it into his hair, fisting my fingers into it as I tried to pull him away. “Miles…” 

He didn’t budge an inch until he was satisfied and I was sure there was a nice dark purple mark on my neck. His tongue swept across the agitated skin. A clap of thunder shook the house, and I probably misheard as he whispered, “Mine,” into my ear.

Miles sidled down my body, pushing my shirt up so he could kiss a trail up my stomach. Sliding both hands underneath me, he sat up on his knees and brought me with him, kissing the corner of my mouth when I winced slightly. “Ok?”

I nodded, “Ok.”

He pulled the shirt and bralette over my head, then cradled my body as he laid me back down again. His fingers gently traced the seatbelt bruise across my collar bone, sternum, and ribs and the guilt was plain across his face. It became clear, then, what this was: we weren’t ready to talk about the elephant in the room, so he was showing me. No pretense, no “on” Miles, no masks, just literal naked truth and emotions. 

I felt his lips start on my side and his kissed his way up the ugly green and yellow mark until he reached my collar bone. Lightning flashed through the windows and the rain increased in intensity before the clap of thunder shook the house again.

Miles brought his mouth to mine again and this time, it was a desperate frenzy of lips and teeth as we kissed. I pushed at the waistband of his joggers again and finally, he sat up again and slid them down his legs, kicking off his shoes and depositing his pants and boxer briefs on the floor. He sat on the edge of the bed and untied each of my shoes and slipped them off before reaching up and pulling my leggings and panties off with one tug.

Gloriously naked, he crawled up my body again and settled his hips between my legs. He wrapped one of his big hands around a breast and brought it to his lips sucking and tugging on the nipple. The muscles in my torso ached but I still arched into him, hands fisting into his hair. He turned his attention to the other one before kissing me and slipping his free hand between our bodies. 

I didn’t need to check if I was wet, I could feel myself dripping between my asscheeks onto the duvet covert. Miles slid his fingers between my pussy lips and groaned into my mouth, breaking the kiss. “God, you are always so wet for me.”

I didn’t have the breath to answer. 

Miles slipped one finger inside me, while he nosed at my ear. His thumb circled my clit as he slid a second finger inside and I gasped as the wave almost crested. He pumped his fingers a few times and I threw my head backward into the pillows. 

Suddenly, he withdrew them and supported himself on a hand above me. Our eyes met as patterns of lightning flashed on the walls. I could barely hear his voice over the thunder, as he asked “Do you trust me?”

I nodded, doubting my voice.

Miles fitted the head of his cock against my slit and paused giving me time to protest, but I just rocked my pelvis and hooked my legs over his hips letting the tip of him slip inside. His nostrils flared and he kept his eyes on mine as he slid home. He took it slow, pushing his cock in a few inches then withdrawing and repeating. When we were fully pressed together, he grabbed my hands and wove our fingers together as he started to fuck me.

The rhythm was constant and as the rain beat against the windows and lightning drew patterns on the wall and the thunder covered the sounds of our moans, we existed in a place outside of time. 

I don’t know how long it took, it could have been five minutes or it could have been five hours, but eventually our orgasms rolled over us. It wasn’t a wave crashing on the beach or a building imploding. It was slow, like storm clouds rolling in from the sea. The way the earth moves, tectonic plates shift, volcanos rumble.

When it was over, neither one of us could look away. Miles broke the silence first, “That was intense.”

My voice cracked when I answered “Yeah.”

He bent down to kiss me and it was long and deep like he was trying to tell me things he couldn’t use words to explain. When his softened cock finally slid out of me and I felt the trickle of cum slide down my cheeks, Miles ducked a shoulder and rolled onto his back, pulling me half on top of him. “I’ve never,” he cleared his throat, “I haven’t… Is it always that intense without a condom?”

“No. That was something else entirely.”

I had wanted the real Miles. I had wanted him without the mask and I had gotten way more than I bargained for, as he had just bared his fucking soul to me and I had no idea what to do with it. We had just made love. I’d never done that before. I thought it was a corny euphemism for boring sex. But without using words, Miles had just told me exactly how he felt and I was pretty sure I was right there with him. I just didn’t know what it meant? Were we together? Were we dating? 

I hoped I was just as emotionally naked. I sure as hell felt emotionally naked. I was about one lost eyelash away from curling into him and crying my eyes out I felt so vulnerable.

In hindsight, that’s probably what I should have done. Instead, I crawled my busted body over Miles’, pulled some clothes over my naked body, shuffled to the bathroom to pee and placed another brick in the wall. 

When I came out of the bathroom, the bed was empty and Granny L was floating her incorporeal self in the middle of the room.

**When you’re miserable in the next few weeks, I want you to think back on this very moment and know this is where it all went sideways, Girlie. I know I messed up with your mother, but Lord, I didn’t think I messed up with you.**

I didn’t get a chance to answer before she vanished. Fuck.

I could hear Miles in the living room with the TV on. I knew I should march out there and plop down and tell him how I felt. That would be the smart, intelligent, grown up thing to do. But it meant being vulnerable and what if I had completely misread that entire situation? What if it was just sex? What if he didn’t feel the same way? 

**What if you’re just the biggest chickenshit this side of the Mississippi?**

The logical thing to do would be to talk to Miles. I looked at my bag; normally, when shit got real I packed up and got out. As much as I didn’t want to admit it-- to myself, or to anyone else-- that was the real reason I was still living with my parents. As a rule, when it came to dating, I picked losers that I knew would never fully commit. They also liked to smoke a lot of pot, usually didn’t have jobs, and therefore, I didn’t have to worry about letting down my guard and being emotionally vulnerable. I looked at the bag for about a second too long and one of Miles’ slides hit the back of my head. 

**Don’t you dare.**

I spared a glare at the space where Granny L had been and grabbed the bag before I started shoving things into it. I don’t know what Granny L did, but all of a sudden, the lights flickered, the air became so dense it was hard to breathe, the dogs started barking, and Miles charged through the door.

He glanced at the bag in my hand, “What happened? Are you ok?”

I didn’t know whether to shake my head yes or no and ended up doing something in the middle. The corner of Miles’ mouth turned up, but his eyes were the same color as the storm clouds outside. “Are you packing?”

I didn’t know how to answer again and gave a weak shrug. The bag flew out of my hand and hit the wall with a thud.

Miles’ eyes widened and he jerked, “Granny Lucille doesn’t seem very happy about that.”

That loosened my tongue, “What is it with you hockey boys and just accepting a ghost?”

It was Miles’ turn to shrug, “You know how superstitious we can be. But my main concern is you leaving.”

I took a deep, shuddering breath, “I.. You… you weren’t there when I came out of the bathroom.”

He shook his head, “No.”

The words flowed out of my mouth faster than I could filter them as I wrung my hands in front of me like I was some victorian spinster, “It was just a lot and intense and I needed….”

He cut me off, “You needed to fortify that wall.”

My mouth opened and closed like a fish.

His lips were a flat line and the only time I had seen him like this was defending teammates. I wanted unfiltered, unmasked Miles, and I got him. “I should just let you leave. Let you build that wall right back up and let you walk out the door.”

“But…” my voice cracked.

“But I’m fuckin’ selfish.” Miles started advancing on me and when a 6’2” 200lb hockey player is coming at you, puffed up like he wants to fight, it’s fucking scary.

I started backing up toward the bed, “What does that mean?”

The mattress hit the back of my knees and I fell onto it and Miles fell on top of me, his arms caged around my head bracing his weight. “It means that I kind of hoped you’d trust me and take down that wall yourself, but if I have to rip it down brick by brick, then I’ll do that too.”

He leaned down, his lips centimeters from mine, and continued, “So, let me tell you how I feel: I like you, Jennifer Louise Smith. I like you a lot. You’re right, I do wear a mask. I don’t like to let people get close, but you are a fucking hypocrite if you think you live your life in a genuine fashion. Nevertheless, I like you. I like you in my bed, I like waking up with you wrapped around my body like damn blackberry vine, thorns included. I think you’re fucking hot all dolled up looking like you walked right off the side of a WWII fighter plane, but I like you best in leggings, one of my old tshirts, and your lips swollen from kissing. I like you in my house. I like walking your stupid dog. I like buying cars for you. I like doing things for you. I like taking care of you because you take care of everyone else and no one takes care of you. I want to be the one that takes care of you.”

It was a lot. It felt like mortars blowing chunks out of the carefully constructed wall I had built around myself, starting from when I was a toddler and Josh and Jill would make fun of me because I couldn’t keep up in their games. I covered my face with my hands. Miles put his knees on either side of my hips and held me in place while he grabbed my wrists and then pinned them beside my head. “No. No hiding. No masks.”

I felt a tear roll out of the corner of my eye and across my temple and right into my ear. I hated that. I had a moment of panic about my eyeliner, but realized I hadn’t put any on in days.

Miles leaned forward and kissed the corner of my eye, his tongue licking wet trail from my temple. 

I drew a shuddery breath, “This seems really fast, Miles. Three weeks ago, you were a dude I liked to watch fight other dudes while hitting a small rubber disc with a stick. Two weeks ago, you were a teammate of my sister’s boyfriend. Last week, I was pretty sure I hated you. Then you take me in and nurse me back to health and in four days you went from someone I was pretty sure I hated to… this and I’m pretty sure I know what this is and it’s scary. I’m scared.”

“You don’t think I’m scared? You don’t think I’m terrified that bared my soul to you and you’re just going to rip it half and pack a bag and leave?”

I gave a shuddering sob because that’s exactly what I had been about to do. I tried to wiggle out of the iron grip his big hands had on my wrists, “Will you let me go?” The double meaning of the question was not intentional, but also, was not lost on me.

Miles looked at me apprehensively, “Are you going to try and run away? Because I will find a priest to marry us and I’m pretty sure your mother will take a goat as a dowry and then you can’t run away. We’re married.”

I rolled my eyes, “God, you’re fucking dramatic. NO.”

He let go of my wrists and tried to brace himself on his elbows, but I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him down on top of me. It hurt… a lot but it was worth it. When I could breathe, I whispered, “I’m sorry. I can guarantee I won’t run. I can’t guarantee I won’t break your heart. But if you come fetch me, I’ll always come back.”

I felt Miles grin against my ear, “Deal.” 


	5. Part 5

After that, the days rolled on and Miles and I fell into comfortable cohabitation with the two dogs. Training camp was a few weeks away and Miles was really ramping up his workouts. He was up early every morning and had even started taking the dogs for a run as a warm up. They tolerated about 2 miles with their easy long-strided trot, but the third was always a lot slower. Miles would then drop them off for breakfast and head to skate. 

With all my down time, I had actually caught up on all my editing. I had even managed to finish editing the sessions my assistants had shot for me when I was holed up at Miles’ immediately after the accident. This gave me a lot of time to catch up on Netflix and think. 

I liked Miles as a person. I loved him as a hockey player. And somehow, every day, he ripped down a little more of that wall I had built around myself. It was scary. I was scared he was going to leave my wall in a pile of rubble. I was scared that whatever this was couldn’t last through the trials of everyday life. We had been sequestered away like a vacation romance, free of the outside world’s judgement. He was, after all, Miles Wood and I was no one. I didn’t fit the stereotype of the cute little blonde Instagrammer that these boys normally date. Even Luci, who was gorgeous and quite literally THE GIRL NEXT DOOR faced HUGE backlash dating Mac. For so long, Ihad told myself that at the end of the day, I didn’t care what outside people thought, that as long as I had high waisted jeans, a bandana, and some wicked winged eyeliner, I was fine. That was my mask, but Miles had torn down the wall behind it so it was flimsy and transparent. 

Regardless of if I had wanted it or not, this week with Miles had fundamentally changed me as a person and I didn’t know who I was, how I would react to well... anything. Even worse, I had no idea how Miles would react. I know he felt something deep, but would that withstand judgement from fans? Would it withstand judgement from anyone? We didn’t have a label, we didn’t have defined terms, nothing about this was concrete. It was like hanging off the precipice of a cliff and not knowing if you had ropes attached to your harness.

I was so lost in thought that I didn’t hear Miles come in, and I realized I had the remote for the TV in my hand, though the screen wasn’t even on. He plopped down next to me, his hair still wet from a shower. He could sense I was preoccupied, but didn’t seem entirely sure how to approach it. “I love this show,” he started, lamely, trying to break the tension we both could feel surrounding us.

My eyes met his and I almost cracked, but instead, I shrugged.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Mac and Luci and Mom and Dad come home tomorrow. I go home tomorrow.” I picked at a loose thread on the couch cushion.

A mask slid across Miles face, but this one was different. This was the mask he wore when he didn’t want his feelings to influence my own. “And?”

“And… I’m going to be happy to get back to some semblance of normalcy, but I’m going to miss this. Miss us. Miss this little staycation we’ve had together.”

A small smile cracked Miles’ mask, “Only you would call recuperating from a car accident as a staycation. There’s hard work and dedication, and then there are the Smith girls.”

I gave a one shouldered shrug. “I’m the daughter of a hardworking plumber and a southern socialite housewife. “Relax” is not in our vocabulary.”

Miles traced a pattern with his index finger on the leather couch cushion, “You could… uh.. you could stay?”

I wasn’t sure if it was a question, a suggestion, or an invitation. The surprised laugh escaped my mouth before I could stop it and I saw hurt flicker across his face; it was fleeting, but I caught it. “Miles,” I said, slowly, choosing my words with care, “That’s insane. It’s been a week? And you want me to move in? Christ I mean, I can already predict what people will think if they find out you bought me a car and I’ve been staying with you.”

An almost desperate look slid across Miles’ features, “Is it, though? Insane? You’re already here? Things are fine? This has been amazing. The dogs are fine. People aren’t going to think anything.”

I sighed, “Miles… We’ve been in, like, this bubble. What is this going to be in the real world? Do you remember the shit Luci had to deal with when Mac first made them public? Did you read any of that? And Luci is the pretty one!”

Miles’ eyes turned that stormy blue: I knew by now that this was a tell, usually meaning he was pissed off, “First of all, you are JUST as beautiful as Luci, maybe even more so. Second of all, does it matter what other people think?”

“No! It doesn’t matter! But Miles, once that mask comes off for you, in public, you can’t put it back on. So when people criticize me, or question my motives, or call me a puckbunny, are you going to be able to handle it?”

He swept a hand over his face, “I don’t know. Will you?”

I shrugged my shoulder again, “I don’t know, either. I used to be an impenetrable fortress but you destroyed all my defenses, so if someone were to come after this? Us? I don’t know how I would react. Probably not well.”

Miles reached for me and tugged me into his lap, “Why can’t we just stay here like this?”

My chest heaved with another big sigh, “We could run away. I can be a photographer anywhere, how much of that 11 million contract do you have left? Maybe we can be frugal.”

He nosed at my ear and neck, his lips ghosting over the fading hickey he had left. “Not enough to keep you happy in the lifestyle to which you’ve grown accustomed.”

I snorted, “That’s bullshit, you’re the one with expensive taste.”

I could feel the smile the stretched Miles’ lips against my temple, “I want to be able to spoil you. I want you to want for nothing.”

“Oh lord,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Okay, but that’s on you. I didn’t ask for that. I don’t need it. You bought me a new BMW and I would have been fine with a lightly used KIA.”

Leaning back against Mile’s chest, I pulled his arms around me, “What are we going to do?”

He pressed a kiss to my temple, “I don’t know, but we will figure it out.”

Somewhere, deep inside, I doubted that; however, I couldn’t tell it was my own fear, or my sense of self-preservation, or both. But somewhere, also deep inside, I heard another voice, clamoring to contribute her opinion. Granny L disagreed with me, she wanted to make that clear.  **Just jump, he’ll catch you.** And if he doesn’t Granny L?  **I’ll haunt his ass.**

Maybe I would hold off on the exorcism. 

Miles had fallen asleep spooning me and whatever we had been watching on TV had turned into a marathon of Golden Girls reruns. My phone buzzed on the table.

_ LucilleBall: Are you still alive? No one has heard from you in a few days, but Miles did send a creepily cryptic text about God and Ghosts and Granny L.  _

_ Granny L is in the building _

_ LucilleBall: Give her my love. Being Granny-free for almost a week has been lovely. How are you doing? _

_ Physically? Fine. Mentally? Eh. Romantically? Yikes _

_ LucilleBall: I’m sorry, ROMANTICALLY? Does this mean you are now intimately acquainted with Woody’s Wood? _

_ So acquainted. _

_ LucilleBall: AND? _

_ Pretty sure I’m in love with him, Luce. _

_ Lucilleball: Whoa. _

Luci’s text bubbles popped up and disappeared several times and it was several minutes before a message finally came through.

_ LucilleBall: What does that mean? Are you guys together? Does he feel the same way? Where is this going? _

_ I know he feels similarly, I don’t know if it’s the L word. I don’t know where this is going, but he wants me to just… stay here. _

_ LucilleBall: Well, THAT’S insane. _

_ RIGHT? _

_ But also… you fucked your next door neighbor within, like, two weeks of his moving in and then didn’t talk to each other for a month. It’s been like 10 seconds since y’all got back together and you literally flew OUR PARENTS OUT TO MEET HIS PARENTS after like, 2 weeks of actual dating and like, 2 months of total clusterfuckery. _

_ LucilleBall: You bring several valid points. We’re insane. But it’s Mac. He’s a Labrador disguised as a human being. _

_ *rolling eyes emoji* True. But, like, I also feel confident that Big Mac would literally rip any person in half who dared to look at you sideways. Hulk Style. _

_ LucilleBall: Bless his heart, he’d try. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a big powerful man, but yesterday there was a little spider in the shower and he screamed like he was getting murdered. His mom had to come kill it.  _

It was my turn to start several texts and stop.

_ On a scale of 1-10, how mad will he be if I tell Miles that story? _

_ LucilleBall: He’s the human version of a Labrador-- how bad could his bark be? Also, any man who screams that loud because of a tiny spider deserves ridicule. _

_ I almost feel sorry for him. Does he know you’re really mean yet? _

_ LucilleBall: Shhhh, my secret. Anyway, our flight gets in tomorrow around 4 -- Mac will drop mom and dad off after that, and then we will bugger off to our place. _

_ Sounds good. See you tomorrow. _

_ LucilleBall: Let me know if you need anything, ok? These boys… are very sweet… but very stupid, and I would really hate to have to murder Miles Wood for breaking my big sister’s heart. Especially since I think he’s going to have a stellar year. _

_ Ummm……. if his stamina in bed is any indication, Miles Wood is going to have a very, very good season.  _

_ LucilleBall: *shocked face emoji* _

Miles started to stir behind me and pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “Luci texting?”

“Yeah. I guess Mac is afraid of spiders and there was one in the shower and he made his mom come kill it for him.”

Miles didn’t answer right away but I felt his body shaking with silent laughter behind me. “You probably shouldn’t have told me that.”

“No, probably not, but how mad would you have been if I had kept that glorious information from you?”

Miles levered over me slightly and gripped my chin, turning my head for a kiss, “You infuriate me in so many ways, but thankfully, keeping our friends’ dark secrets isn’t one of them.”

“Oooh, infuriate. Did your mom get you word-of-the-day toilet paper?”

I don’t know what type of animal would make a noise like Miles made, but his snarl was feral and before I knew it, I was flat on my back. As he bent over me with his hips wedged between my legs, I couldn’t help but goad him just a little bit, “I didn’t know you were part werewolf. I feel like that’s information you should have shared before the unprotected sex.”

The corner of Miles’ mouth twitched and buried his face into the side of my neck as he groaned, “God, why are you like this?”

I shrugged, my shoulder hitting the bottom of his chin, “Born this way. But it wouldn’t be quite as much fun if you didn’t make exasperated look so sexy.”

Miles braced himself on his elbow and looked at me. His technicolor dream eyes were a murky teal color and I couldn’t break the eye contact. He shifted and used his free hand to brush a strand of hair out of my face, “I’m pretty sure I love you, Jen.”

I felt a gob of spit slide down my throat and I reflexively, I inhaled which just sucked it down my airway and started a coughing fit. Struggling to breathe and also, not lose my shit, I turned my body and tried to sit up.

Miles pulled me up and rubbed my back as I tried not to suffocate on my own saliva. 

When my coughing quieted, a tense silence stretched between us before Miles broke it, “It’s ok. If….”

I cut him off, “I think I do though. Love you. It’s just insanely fucking fast. Like barely a full week? That’s insane, right? We are insane?”

Miles pulled me back into his body again, “Yeah, maybe.”

“I have to go home tomorrow, you know that, right?”

Miles made a noncommittal grunt, to show what was, I think, dissatisfaction. “I don’t know why,” he maintained, “Gordie is happy here, YOU’RE happy here, unless you’re not happy here.”

I drew a circle on his forearm with my index finger, smiling, “I  _ have _ really enjoyed being here, Miles, you know that. But none of my stuff is here, my life isn’t here.”

“Ok, but your life COULD be here. We would just move your stuff.”

My eyes rolled of their own volition, “See, you say that, but I’m not sure you know what you’re agreeing to ...or how much stuff we’re talking. I have a lot of photography props and stuff.”

“Jen, this is a 3 bedroom townhouse with a bonus room. There is space for your photography stuff. We can turn one of the bedrooms upstairs into an office. Or this living/kitchen/dining space is huge, we can wall off a corner. Hell, I can move my gym so that the entire bonus room could be a studio for you. Every single one of these roadblocks has a solution.”

I sighed, “Miles, I think it’s super fast. INSANELY fast. What if we do all that and break up?”

His eyes started to turn, more of a stormy blue than green and I knew that was the first sign Miles was getting pissed off, “I think ‘what ifs’ are dumb, Jen. What if I take a puck to the head and die tomorrow? What if you get hit by a semi truck walking Gordie? What if a meteor hits the planet and we all die? What if you are just coming up with excuses because you don’t feel the same way? Or, what if you DO feel the same way and are just coming up with these ridiculous excuses as a lame attempt at self-sabotage, because for some reason you’re hell-bent on depriving yourself the smallest bit of happiness?”

“NO,” I smacked his arm. This was getting way too Loveline-y for my own good. “I’m fucking scared, Miles. I’m scared that I feel so intensely for you and whatever this is, whatever we are is this little fledgling creature that is going to shatter at the first sign of something contrary.”

“Ok, but if you think of it like that, it WILL be fragile. Is this just an excuse to run away at the first opportunity?”

“I want to say no, but…”

Miles sat back and took me with him, cradling me in his lap, “Can you just save me the trouble of having to chase you down and not do that? Look, we’ve spent this past week just being incredibly together and open and raw, why can’t we rebuild the walls together, but around both of us?”

I opened my mouth and gaped like a fish. I didn’t have an answer to his question, but also, I was puzzled, “Who are you? Since when are hockey boys so introspective?”

Miles grinned and ran a hand through his hair, “My needs are simple,” he said easily. “I want you here all the time because I like you and I like being around you and if you are here, I can fuck you any time I want, which is all the time.”

I shrugged, “There it is.”

“I just want you, Jen, all the time, and I will spout any introspective bullshit you want to hear to make that happen.”

Pouting slightly, I replied, “I liked it better when you were spouting the introspective bullshit and not calling it introspective bullshit.”

“Whatever,” Miles laid his head back against the couch, “Will you move in with me, or what?”

“Or what.”

He looked up, surprised, “What do you mean? I just made an excellent case.”

“It’s too soon. We’re skipping like 500 steps in a new relationship. Why can’t we just date for a few months? Besides, even then, people are going to talk.”

Miles threw his head back against the couch again, but more dramatically this time, “Ugh, who cares what people say?”

“Uh, you might if it’s your agent or team owner or manager or coach or teammates.”

He sighed and brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “Two weeks. We date quietly, then you move in before the season starts and I can shout it from the rooftops.”

“All Star break.”

He shook his head “Nope, absolutely not.”

I shifted with minimal wincing and straddled Miles’ lap, my knees snug against his hips, “Three months, actual dating. I want the whole thing, Miles -- romantic dinners, flowers, a carnival. Pumpkin patches. Hand holding as we cross the street.” I was slightly disconcerted I was admitting this, out loud, to Miles, but he asked me to be open. As scared as I was, I figured I should at least try. Before I lost my nerve, I continued, “You said you wanted to spoil me. So do it. Did you know Mac buys flowers for Luci every week to put in Granny L’s old crystal vase?”

Miles grabbed my hips and pulled me against him, “One month and I will give you whatever you want.”

“Then give me three months.”

It was Miles’ turn to gape like a goldfish. He looked almost apoplectic as he muttered, “I don’t like how you turned that around me. That’s not fair.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and nuzzled into his shoulder, “Does the big hockey player have an aversion to being outsmarted?” I tried to say this without sing-songing it, honestly, but I may or may not have failed.

Some green started to sneak into his eyes and his nostrils flared, “No. I don’t like losing. It’s different.”

“Three months, Miles, and we’re not going radio silent. I’m not going to Antarctica. I’m 15 minutes away. We can have sleepovers. Who knows, in a week, I could change my mind.”

“It feels like you’re going to Antarctica,” he pouted.

I rested my arms on the back of the couch and leaned forward to nip at his pouting lip. 

Miles stood up abruptly, his hands under my thighs to support my weight. I gave an involuntary yelp and wrapped my legs around his waist as he started toward the bedroom.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re the one that’s so smart, I think that’s pretty obvious.”

“Enlighten me anyway, introspective hockey boy.”

“I am going to enjoy you while you’re here and maybe convince you to stay.”

“I mean, you can try but ...I think you should definitely bring your A game.”

Miles scoffed as he nudged the bedroom door open with his foot, “Every game is my A game.”

Despite myself, I had to admit that was true-- I don’t know if Miles was just That Good, or if it was something about the two of us, but the sex was phenomenal. Without any ground to stand on, both proverbially and literally, I remained silent.

With more strength and control over his body than I ever hoped to have over my own (which, by the way, rude), Miles lay me down on the bed and covered my body with his. As he pressed his hips into mine and started to run his hands up my sides under my shirt, he murmured, “That’s it? Nothing? No final quips? No chirps?”

“Just fucking kiss me already, Wood,” I said rolling my eyes.

He grinned and complied. 

4 hours and 4 orgasms later, I was lounging boneless against his chest when he gently slid out from under me and pulled on some joggers. I had been dozing in a post coital haze of bliss, but when I felt him move, I snapped back into it and asked, “Where are you going?”

“Someone needs to feed the dogs and walk them and since your body currently seems to have the constitution of a lazy cat, I figured that would be my job.”

I struggled to sit up, the defiant and feminist part of me surging to the surface “I can…” I insisted….until I realized how comfortable I had been snuggled in Miles’ (our?) bed. Resigning myself to defeat, I flopped back down into the pillows, “I can’t…” 

Miles pulled on a sweatshirt and leaned over to kiss my forehead. “Just rest. I got it.”

\---------------

Less than 24 hours later, I was in my new BMW with a freshly installed cargo gate to keep the dogs in the back. Miles’ Range Rover had been delivered looking like it had never been in an accident and there was a war going on inside me.

Part of me felt like I was literally driving away after leaving my actual heart behind. But part of me wanted distance. Over both parts of my brain, Granny Lucille screaming so loud I couldn’t hear myself think.

**YOU’RE LEAVING? HE BOUGHT YOU THIS REALLY NICE CAR. IT HAD TO COST LIKE 25 THOUSAND.**

She was currently sitting in the passenger seat, attempting to push all the buttons and every now and then, she would become corporeal enough to do it. Good news for us was that I had figured out the child locks pretty quickly. Deciding not to rib her about inflation and what a dollar actually buys you these days (aka nothing) and just move on, I sighed and answered, lest she become even more petulant.

“A little more than $25,000, Granny L.”

**Oh. Well that’s a lot of money dear.**

“Well, he makes a lot of money.”

**Why are you going back to your mother’s, then?**

“Because that’s where I live.”

**They say home is where the heart is.**

I sighed, “Granny, I just need time. This was a lot in a short amount of time.”

**Dear, don’t lecture me on time. I’m dead. I didn’t make the most of what I had, I have regrets and now I have all of eternity to contemplate what I would have done differently. Don’t make the same mistakes I did.**

With that final thought, Granny L disappeared completely and I was left with the dogs and my own hamster wheel of a brain in my new red sporty SUV. Fuck.

\--------

A week out from the accident, most of the muscle soreness was gone and I was off most of the pain meds. My ribs were still bothersome and the bad part about not being so sore is that I was constantly accidentally overdoing it.

I was lying on my bed in my childhood bedroom, spent from lugging in not only my stuff, but 2 metric tons of dog stuff from my small but spacious SUV, when I heard Mac’s Explorer pull into the driveway. 

I let the air I had been holding in my chest blow through my nose when I heard my mother’s shrill voice come from downstairs. “Jennifer Louise! Come help with the bags!”

Then I heard Luci’s placating mumbles, no doubt reminding my mother that I had been in a car accident and if Mac was anything like my father he was just grabbing as many bags as he could to make it in one trip. 

Wincing as I sat up, I sent a quick text to Miles.

_ Is it too late to change my mind? _

With that, I tossed my phone back on the bed and made my way slowly downstairs.

In the week I had stayed with Miles, I had gotten used to my daily comfort uniform of leggings and one of his t-shirts. I hadn’t touched my makeup kit in at least seven days and my roots probably needed to be touched up sooner rather than later, but I hadn’t bothered because ‘Messy bun’ was my new go-to.

Everyone was congregating in the kitchen of our shotgun-style house; despite only the five of us being present, Mac’s hulking figure made the room seem a lot smaller than it actually was. Damn hockey players.

“Oh Jennifer, dear, you look like absolute death. If we had known you were this bad, we would have shortened our trip.”

Luci tried and failed to mask her wince, and Mac just raised his eyebrows. Ahh, classic Mom: a backhanded compliment with a side order of guilt.

“It’s fine, Mom, I feel a lot better, actually.”

She frowned, “Well, then would it hurt you to put on a little makeup? You look so much prettier with a little bit of mascara and blush.”

At this, Mac’s eyebrows had pretty much disappeared into his hairline and Luci was gripping his hand so hard that her knuckles were white. “I’ll be sure to do that next time I leave the house, Mom.” 

My tone was flat and practiced; to be fair, I’d been perfecting it since I was 15, about the time I learned the easiest way to deal with my mother when she was in one of her moods.

“So Luci, tell me all about your trip?”

Luci opened her mouth, but our mother steamrolled right over her, “Oh Jennifer, they don’t have time! Mac has practice tomorrow and Luci has to get back to work first thing.”

“Yep.. that’s true.” Luci started dragging Mac toward the door with one hand and grabbed my arm with the other, whispering, “Come over for dinner tomorrow, and you can get the less judgemental version of our trip.” 

Mac hooked me around the neck and gave me a quick one-armed hug and explained delicately and with what seemed to be great restraint, “We are leaving before I spontaneously combust.” He managed to grab all of Deke’s paraphanalia with one hand and whistled for the dog, who bounded toward his people without a backward glance.

And just as fast as they had arrived, they were gone and Dad was in his recliner watching Sports Center while Mom was puttering around the kitchen. 

“Jennifer, when was the last time you cleaned? Are the dishes in the dishwasher STILL dirty? Oh my god, everything in the fridge is bad. What did you DO while we were gone?”

“Well, I got into a car accident and stayed with Miles Wood, Mac’s teammate, because Jill and Josh were too busy to take care of me and I got home about 15 minutes before you did, Mom.”

“Well, Jill and Josh have important careers.”

I sighed, “I’m feeling tired, Mom, my ribs are still bothering me. I’m going to lie down.”

“Well, the house is a mess, and I’ve been traveling all day. I guess I’ll just have to clean it all up by myself.”

More guilt trip. Typical. Leave it to my mom to double down. And people wonder why I’m so stubborn.

My feet felt ridiculously heavy as I dragged myself upstairs again. Not sure if it was dread, resignation or just being physically tired but regardless, it was hard work; however, I knew it was nothing compared to dealing with my mother and her constant refrains of criticism and comparison. I collapsed face first on my bed and Gordie jumped up and flopped down next to me. My phone vibrated near my face.

_ ManCrushMiles: No. It’s not too late. Come home. I miss you and Gordie. _

I don’t know how she did it, but somehow, my mom always managed to make me (an almost 30 year old woman) feel like I was a 13 year old kid again, with nothing but a few well-placed backhanded compliments, colored with just enough guilt and judgement to keep things interesting.

\--------

Being at home with my parents and trying to recuperate was a lot less fun and relaxing than it had been at Miles. After about the 500th time my mother interrupted my editing to tell me some ridiculously banal aside regarding her stay with the Blackwoods, I gave up.

Since Miles was so generous with the car, I had my savings and the deposit from the photography bootcamp I canceled. I started to look for places to live.

My phone vibrated. It was a text from Miles.

_ ManCrushMiles: Whatcha doin? _

_ Looking at places to rent. _

I had barely hit send before my phone started vibrating with a phone call.

I answered but didn’t even manage a hello.

“That’s literally like… the opposite of what I want you to do.”

“Hello to you, too, handsome.”

“If you want to move out, just move here. You’re going to end up moving here eventually, anyway.”

Closing the computer, I set the laptop on my nightstand and flopped next to Gordie -- who was upside down and snoring.

“That sure of yourself, are you, Wood?”

“Call it a personality flaw. But come on. Why waste money on application fees and a deposit and blah blah blah.”

“What if we don’t work out?”

“Irrelevant, because we will, but THEN you can look for a new place to live.”

“Ooh, irrelevant! Word-of-the-day toilet paper again?”

I heard Miles heave a sigh before he answered, “Why… Why are you such a fucking smartass? It’s especially unfair, since you’re not here in person and I can’t spank you as punishment.”

I bit my lip before I answered. Punishment. Ha. “Call it a personality flaw.”

Miles practically growled into the phone, “You should come over.”

“It hasn’t even been 24 hours since I left.”

“Yes, it has. It’s been 26 hours since you left.”

On the other end of the phone, I could hear Miles moving around and clothes rustling, and I couldn’t resist. “Aww, are you counting the hours?”

“Of course I am. You’re not going to make me wait three months. That’s ridiculous. I want to be able to identify exactly how much time has passed before you finally cave and move in with me.”

“I know you don’t like losing, but you know this is making me want to do anything except come over or move in with you, right?”

My phone vibrated again and Miles had sent me a photo. It was clearly post-workout: he was sweaty, veins everywhere, and he was naked. There was silence on the line. When I didn’t respond, he continued, “Jen, you seemed to have stopped breathing so I’m assuming you got the picture. Go ahead, tell me again that you don’t want to come over, or move in with me.”

“Fuck you, Wood.”

“I mean… yeah, thats the idea, I want you to fuck my wood.”

“God, I hate you so much.”

I could hear him smiling through the phone, “No, you don’t.”

Mom chose that opportune moment to come in, of course not bothering to knock. “Jennifer, dear…”

I struggled to sit up, “Mom, I’m on the phone.”

Ignoring me, she persisted, “Oh, is it Miles? You should invite him to Sunday dinner. Luci is bringing Mac and Jill and Josh have promised to come. I’m sure he would like to meet all of us.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I listened to Miles’ soft chuckle in my ear, “Tell your mom I’d be delighted.”

“No...I mean...I wouldn’t -- I wouldn’t be delighted. Do I even get a say in this?”

“JENNIFER LOUISE. That is the most impolite thing… I NEVER….”

Mom started to turn that particular shade of pink we only ever saw when she was embarrassed, and I knew a guilt trip was incoming.

“Louise?” Miles chirped in my ear.

“Jennifer, are you ashamed of your family?”

The answer was definitely yes, but if I said that, Mom would cross herself and she wasn’t even Catholic, she was a Southern Baptist.

“No, Mom, of course not. It’s just new…”

“Well then, it’s settled, MILES, WE’LL SEE YOU AT 7 ON SUNDAY,” she yelled toward the phone like he was halfway around the world and hadn’t just heard the entire conversation clear as a bell.

Suddenly invigorated with her sense of purpose (one aside from making me miserable, that is), she got to it. “Oh my goodness, I need to add the leaf extension to the dining room table and go grocery shopping. And, I still need to do all the laundry from our trip. If only I had an extra set of hands! Jen, you wouldn’t mind helping with the laundry right?”

I sighed, probably not internally as I had intended. Oh, joy; Props to my Mother and her masterful way of guilting me into doing things, “No, Mom. I can finish the laundry.”

With that, she swept out of the room and Miles and I sat in awkward silence for a moment before his voice came through the phone.

“Why do I now feel guilty for accepting her invitation to dinner and why are you doing her laundry when you should be resting?”

I heaved another sigh, “That is just my mother. It’s her superpower.”

“So, are you coming over or am I showering alone?”

I stifled a chuckle and it came out through my nose; something in me appreciated the ease with which he blew by my mother’s temperament with such little disregard for it, and I wondered if I could ever do the same. “I’m heading over to Luci and Mac’s for dinner later. I get to hear how the trip ACTUALLY went with my parents instead of Mom’s judgement-laced drivel.”

It was Miles’ turn to heave a sigh, “Alright fine, but you’re coming over tomorrow. I’ll take you out to dinner.”

I drew circles on the comforter with my fingernail, “Actually, can we just order in and watch Netflix or something. Dinner with my family is probably going to be traumatic enough for this new relationship. Being seen in public together just might be an unnecessary and preemptive nail in its coffin.”

Miles was quiet for a few moments, “Is it because of what Luci went through?”

“Luci really didn’t go through anything until Mac decided to make the entire situation about him. But, yes. I’d like to learn from their mistakes and not repeat them.”

“Ok… Dinner in and Netflix it is.”

I paused, “Thank you Miles.”

“I miss you, Jen. Come home.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, ok.”

I ended the call and flopped back on my bed, wondering if I was doing the right thing. I wanted to be with Miles; he wanted to be with me. Was I just being overly cautious? But if our relationship couldn’t stand 3 months of living 15 minutes away from each other, it was doomed anyway, right? That’s what that little voice inside my head was suggesting. 

Briefly, I wondered where Granny L had gotten off to, as I knew she’d likely have something to contribute to this conversation. Perhaps she had gone to check in on Luci and Mac, now that they were stateside again. “Good,” I thought to myself. “Let her bother them for a bit.” Hopefully, this whole Granny L haunting thing wasn’t like Beetlejuice and my thinking her name so many times wouldn’t telepathically summon her back from wherever the heck she went, because I didn’t think I could handle her fifteen cents at this point. I reminded myself mentally to ask her about the rules of the afterlife later, though I knew she likely wouldn’t give me the info I wanted, if it would give me any leverage in the situation. “Cranky old broad,” I thought, smiling to myself.

My phone buzzed again and I hoped it was another naked Miles photo, but it wasn’t -- it was Luci reminding me about dinner.

I rolled off the bed to move my parent’s laundry and get ready for dinner at my sister’s. When I made for the door, I noticed Granny L was sitting in a chair in the corner of my room, with a look of deep skepticism and judgement on her transparent face. Damnit.

**I don’t know why you don’t just move in with the boy. He’s obviously crazy about you.**

“Let’s see how he handles dinner with the family on Sunday.”

Granny L gasped,  **Girl, you are going to run him off.**

“Blame Mom, you know how she is.”

Granny frowned and disappeared. 

\---------

It was way past ten when Gordie and I let ourselves back into the house. Dinner had been awkward; After Luci spent 30 minutes telling me about her trip to Canada, she wanted to grill me about Miles. What happened? Where were things going? Were we public? Basically, it was an onslaught a million and one questions that I didn’t have answers to, despite having asked myself the very same things over and over again. Miles texted me about 100 times asking how it was going and that he missed me (in many ways, only several of them PG) until Mac told him to just come over. When he arrived, it was only to be banished into the other room, as Luci attempted to continue her interrogation of me about Miles. 

Gerald had been working his doorman shift and I swear, if Granny L was still alive, I would have set those two up on a date. He grinned like a cat eating the canary when Miles and I left the building together. He probably would have been tickled pink to know we spent the next 30 minutes making out by my car. 

I had barely hit the top of the landing on the second floor when my phone vibrated.

_ ManCrushMiles: Did you make it home? _

_ I literally just walked in the door. Calm your tits. _

The reply dots appeared and disappeared several times. A few minutes later, my phone vibrated again and it was a video of Miles making his pecs ‘dance.’

_ You’re literally the biggest idiot in the world. _

_ ManCrushMiles: Yeah, but I’m your idiot. So, now you know I’m shirtless - what are you wearing, gorgeous? _

_ Oh lord, are we doing this? Really? _

_ ManCrushMiles: YUP. _

I could do this, I told myself… I could sext my ridiculously handsome pro athlete boyfriend. Sure. I stared at my mostly bare face in the mirror. I think Luci had been shocked when I showed up sans winged eyeliner, but bless her heart, she hadn’t mentioned it. 

If I was going to do this, I needed some armor. Pulling out my makeup case, I spent a few minutes applying product and changed into the little lace cami and shorts Miles loved to hate.

My phone buzzed on the bed.

_ ManCrushMiles: Did I lose you? _

Sitting on the bed, I tried to find a selfie angle the showed most of my body without making me look like a manatee caught in a fishing net. 

I fired the photo off and waited. 

_ ManCrushMiles: Fuck this. Come over. _

_ Oh? I thought we were sexting. _

_ ManCrushMiles: We were, until you decided to put on those lace “pajamas.” Which you know drive me crazy. Come over. _

_ Do you really want me driving this late at night? _

_ ManCrushMiles: I’ll send an Uber. I don’t care. I’m pretty sure I made a rule you could only wear that in my bed. _

_ So we have rules now? _

_ ManCrushMiles: Yes. And rule #1 is you can only wear that in my bed. Where I can easily remove it. _

I put a finger to my lips, posed like I was thinking and sent him the selfie.  _ I don’t think that’s how this works. _

The response dots flashed several times before my phone buzzed again. It was an outline of Wood’s very hard wood, barely concealed by his black Calvins. 

It was…..A Lot. I took a deep breath in through my nose, releasing it slowly out through my mouth. You know, like they tell you to, when you’re in labor or your plane is crashing and you’re trying not to go totally batshit. It took me a minute, trying to figure out how to play this, until I was willing to admit he was getting to me.  _ Ok. Ok. Your argument has merit. _

_ ManCrushMiles: COME OVER _

_ Miles, if we can’t even make it a whole 48 hours how are we ever going to make it through hockey season? _

_ ManCrushMiles: ALL THE MORE REASON TO COME OVER. We won’t get this luxury for much longer.  _

_ You’re impossible. _

_ ManCrushMiles: If you lived here, we could have avoided this entire situation. _

_ And which situation is that? _

_ ManCrushMiles: The one we’re in now. Where I’m hard as a rock for you and all alone at home, wishing I could put you on your knees and fuck your mouth until I cum down your throat then eat you until I’m hard again and fuck you until we’re both too exhausted to move. _

Oh. 

I honestly didn’t know how to react to that. Seconds started ticking by. They turned into minutes, and my phone buzzed again.

_ ManCrushMiles: You’re just sitting there fantasizing about that, aren’t you? Come over.  _

_ Don’t tell me how to live my life. You don’t know me.  _

_ ManCrushMiles: Yeah, I do. _

Part of me really really wanted to toy with him and not give him the satisfaction of knowing that I was totally wrecked. I wish I could say that I put up a fight. But nope, that part of me quickly lost to the needy and desperate part of me that wanted him so badly it was getting hard to think straight.

_ Fine. Maybe I was. _

_ ManCrushMiles: Me too. _

Somewhere in my brain, this minor victory registered and I had a brief moment of “HA!” but then a photo came through and it was Miles’ hand wrapped around his very hard cock. Oh. With a deep and only slightly resigned sigh, I conceded.

_ You win. I’ll see you in 15. _

_ ManCrushMiles: Make it 10. _

_ Who is paying the insurance premiums on the Beamer? _

_ ManCrushMiles: Me. _

_ 10 it is. _

“Gordie. Let’s go.” At that, Gordie’s ears perked up and he looked at me, just now realizing that, unlike him, the rest of the world was awake. He stood up and stretched, then yawned, ever so exhausted from all of that sleeping. Looking at me skeptically, like the fact I was rushing around my room like a bat out of hell in nothing but lingerie was in some way ridiculous, he hopped off the bed and made his way towards the door. I dug frantically in my closet for something to throw over my “pajamas” and found a WOOD jersey that was 2 sizes too big I forgot to return. PERFECT.

Within 2 minutes, Gordie and I were in the car with an overnight bag packed for both of us. Granny L appeared in the passenger seat and I almost had a heart attack. “Jesus Christ, Granny.”

**Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, dear.**

“You never took the Lord’s name in vain and you’re still here, Granny L--in limbo.”

**You don’t know that. Maybe I’m here because I choose to be.**

“Are you?”

**In this car right now, to look out for policeman? Yes.**

“That wasn’t the question and you know it, you crafty old bat.”

**Watch your language, young lady.**

“Or what? You’ll haunt me?”

**Touché.**

Not a single cop was to be seen. Granny, Gordie, and I made it to Miles’ in record time. 

I hit the button for Miles’ garage as I flew down his street in my little red SUV. “Granny, it’s time for you to go.”

She poofed into whatever ether region she went to and I hoped it was on another plane of existence without sight or sound, because this one was about to get x-rated.

The garage door was closing and I had barely put the car in park before Miles was flinging my door open and pulling me out of the driver’s seat. He paused when he noticed the jersey.

“If this is what I think it is, we are not making it to the bedroom.” He sucked his bottom lip through his teeth and slowly turned me around.

I heard his sharp inhale, and faster than I could move on my own, my pelvis was flush against the front fender of the SUV and Miles was pushing me down over the hood. I willed myself not to wince and I must have succeeded because Hurricane Miles didn’t pause for a second. He yanked my shorts down my legs and let out a strangled moan, “No panties?”

“No, weirdo-- we were about to sext.”

He chuckled darkly, and his palm smacked against my ass. The sharp sting almost made me cry out. “You are so fucking bad.” He brought his hand down again and my skin smarted as I choked back a moan. “Fuck, yes. You look so goddamn sexy bent over for me like that.”

I bit my lip, and Miles shoved the jersey over my ass and kicked my legs apart.

Miles palmed both globes of my ass and pressed his hips into me. I could feel the hard ridge of his cock beneath the black cotton of his boxer briefs.

He took one hand and smoothed the 44 on my back, “God, that’s hot.” His hand slid down my spine and he backed up just enough to let his fingers ghost down my ass crack until he found my pussy lips and slipped his fingers between them. His groan echoed through the garage. “Fuck, you are wet.”

He coated his fingers in my wetness and slid them up to my clit, circling it. My fingers curled against the red paint of the BMW hood and I tried not to scratch it with my nails. 

Miles placed one hand on the small of my back and the fingers of his other found my entrance. He pushed two digits into me, and the stretch made me gasp. He pulled them out and pushed them in again and this time, he bottomed out to his knuckles. I couldn’t help but moan, “Oh my god, Miles.”

“Shhh, easy, I need to stretch you out.” The hand on my lumbar pressed down as he fucked his fingers into me. It was an embarrassingly short time before they started to make a squelching noise, and I was rocking my hips back to meet his hand. He slid a third finger in and curled them, rubbing my clit with his thumb and the sound I made was not human. Miles worked me through the orgasm, the hand on my back holding me in place when I tried to arch away from the stimulation. 

I was limp on the hood of the SUV, legs still trembling when I felt the head of his cock slide along my sopping slit. My experience with hockey players was limited to what Luci told me about Mac, and, of course, my time with Miles, and based on that, I just assumed all hockey players possessed giant fucking wrenchs. Which is why, even after cumming all over 3 of Miles’ fingers, his cock felt like a stretch as he worked it inside me.

He grabbed my hips and pulled me back to meet a hard thrust and I felt his pelvis against my asscheeks as he bottomed out. He used his body to pin me against the fender again, “Jen, babe, Ok?”

I nodded.

“No. I need a verbal ok.”

“God, Miles, I’m fine -- just fuck me, jesus christ.”

His hand cracked against my ass, hard enough this time that I’m sure he left a handprint. “Miles is fine. And stop taking the Lord’s name in vain.”

“For fuck’s sake, you sound like my mother and You-Know-Who.”

HIs hand cracked across my ass again, “I’m balls-deep and you want to talk about your mother and Voldemort?”

“Oh my god, Freud would be having a field day with this. Just fucking fuck me Miles.”

“You are so fucking lucky that you look so good in my jersey on the hood of a car I bought you with my handprint on your ass. Literally, nothing could kill this boner.”

“I’m hearing a lot of blah blah blah and not…” Miles shut me up with a particularly hard thrust that knocked the wind out of me.

“Look at that -- I found another way to shut you up.” Every word was punctuated with the sound of his hips slapping against my ass as he started fucking me hard.

My fingers curled against the red paint on the hood of the car, and I had long stopped caring about scratching it - it seemed that being railed into next week by Miles had that effect on me, as, at this point, the capacity for anything beyond basic functioning had pretty much vanished from my brain. His thrusts were unrelenting and at a punishing speed, and I was pretty sure he was going to fuck me directly through the engine and to the other side of the car, maybe even into the house, who knows.

My mouth was open, but I had stopped making noise except for tiny grunts when Miles hit a particularly deep spot. 

His hand slid up my spine and he tangled his fingers through my hair, wrapping it around his fist and pulling me by it back toward him. As he lifted my torso off the car, my ribs protested, but I was way too into it to care. “Fuck, Miles.”

I felt the solid warmth of his chest behind me as he held me upright and my shoulder blades came flush with him. I didn’t think it was possible, but he started fucking me harder, “Jen, please tell me you’re close.”

“So close.”

His hand slipped up the front of the jersey and he palmed a breast through the lace cami. His fingers found a pebbled nipple and he squeezed it, digging the lace into the skin. The rough sensation was enough to send me flying over the edge and my pussy walls spasmed hard. Miles made a punched-out sound and muttered half a dozen curse words, pulling me hard against his body, his thrusts faltering as he came.

He held me close against his chest, “Holy. Fuck.”

I was pretty sure I was still spasming, and thus, felt grateful for his strong arms, since I’d have been a pool of useless putty on the garage floor without them. I couldn’t do anything but nod my head, intended to signal vague agreement.

Miles adjusted his feet and leaned his knees against the fender for support, holding both of us up. “I feel like I just skated a 10 minute shift.”

I mumbled something incoherent in response. The hand under the jersey was rubbing soft, comforting circles over my ribs and he started kissing the curve of my neck. 

I don’t know how long we stood there before Miles stepped back and swept me up bridal-style into his arms and started carrying me into the house. Finally, I found my voice, “Miles?”

“Hmm?”

“Babe, the dog is still in the car…”

\----------

The sensation of fingers being trailed gently up my back woke me from the deepest sleep. I was half on top of Miles and wrapped around him like a vine.

He had his head propped up against the pillows and he was just watching me. I hugged him tighter, not used to the overwhelming emotions of happiness and contentment at waking up wrapped around my favorite person, “Good morning, handsome.”

Miles grinned his token Miles smile, “Good morning, gorgeous.”

Gordie rolled over and pressed against the back of my leg before he started snoring. “Well, Gordie thinks he’s home.”

“He is and he knows it. The only one we’re waiting on is you.”

I groaned, “It’s too early to have this conversation for the 500th time Miles.”

He pulled me fully on top of his body and wrapped his arms around me so I was pinned to him, “If you moved in, we could stop having this conversation.”

“Well, then what would be argue about?”

“I have every faith that you would find something. There’s always the question of those so-called pajamas, if nothing else”

“They  _ are _ pajamas. And, are you saying I’m argumentative?”

Miles sighed, “This ridiculous conversation is proof that I’m right. And no, they’re not”

Maybe he had a point. About the conversation. Not the pajamas. I groaned in resignation, and nuzzled my face into his wide chest. I could push the point, I figured, or I could just enjoy the warmth and comfort of snuggling up to Miles, in all of his shirtless glory. It was early, I was tired and I’m weak -- so, I picked the latter.

He raised a hand and smoothed my disheveled hair back from my face, “Are you ok? I got a little carried away yesterday.”

I just hummed in response.

“That’s not an answer, Jen.”

“You made me cum twice in the garage, Miles, and two more times in the bedroom, I’m dandy.”

He made a self-satisfied noise and seemed content with my answer.

I was halfway back to dreamland when he spoke again, “We were supposed to have a date tonight…”

He didn’t finish his thought, but I knew where he was going with it. “I have a bag for me and a bag for Gordie in the car. I didn’t really plan on going home today, just to turn around and come back tonight.”

“You didn’t plan on going to  _ your parents’ _ today only to turn around and come home tonight,” Miles corrected.

I sighed, “Yes, that.”

There was another long pause before I spoke again, “Miles, why do you want me to move in so badly? I don’t live that far away. Why do you want to rush this?”

It was his turn to sigh and he rolled me off of him. He turned on his side and scooted down, so we were eye to eye. Looking at me deeply, he took a minute, lips pursed, almost as if to figure out the right words to use so I wouldn’t chirp back at him before stating, simply, “I just know in my heart that you’re good. You’re a good person, you’re good for me, bringing you into my life will just bring good things. And I get the feeling you have...not good things in your life and bringing you into my life will also bring you good things, which you deserve more than anyone. I want to bring good into your life and I wish you would let me.”

“My life doesn’t suck, Miles. I have a good business, I live rent free for the time being…”

He cut me off, “And yet, you still feel the need to hide behind a mask. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you did your hair and make up again.”

I didn’t have anything to say to that. He was right.

“Exactly. I don’t want you to need walls, because *I’m* your wall.”

I sighed and rolled over onto my back, “Ok, but this is a lot. This is a lot in a very short amount of time, Miles, and it’s an emotional roller coaster.”

Miles gently wrapped a big hand around my shoulder and rolled me back over to face him again, “Why do you have so many walls Jen? Where did they come from?”

I frowned, “Does the NHL give psychology degrees to you guys? Jesus, Dr. Phil.”

He just raised his eyebrows waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know. This is too introspective for first thing in the morning without coffee.”

I rolled over again and struggled to sit up, leaning against the headboard and bringing my knees to my chest. “Just stop pushing, Miles. Please.”

Pushing himself up on an elbow his hand closed over my knee, “Ok. No more pushing. Do you want to get dressed and take Gordie for a walk? We could hit that bakery around the corner for some coffee?”

I set my cheek against the knuckles on top of my knee, my eyes meeting his. “I accept your caffeine and breakfast apology.”

30 minutes later I had a soy latte in one hand and Miles’ fingers woven through mine on the other. He was holding Gordie’s leash and we were wearing matching Devils hoodies. After the storm, New Jersey’s weather had taken an Autumnal turn and there was a foreboding chill hanging around, waiting to be chased away by the high 80s temperatures later in the week. 

Miles pulled me to a stop and tugged me into his body for a lingering kiss. I pulled away when I heard the shutter noise from his phone. “Did you seriously just take a picture of us kissing?”

He let go of my hand, Gordie’s leash around his wrist and he swiped away on his phone. “Yup and it’s going on Instagram.”

I snatched for Miles’ phone but he held it out of my reach. Gordie, who hadn’t gotten his morning run or his 3 laps of mach 5 exercise yet, thought this was an awesome game and jumped around on the end of the leash barking his excitement. 

“Let me see it!”

“No, you won’t let me post it!”

“I don’t have makeup on, Miles, I look like crap!”

“You look fine. I want people to see you like I see you.”

“UGH! Ok fine, but if you’re going to do this we’re going to do it right.” I looked around for decent lighting and a decent background. There was a brick building across the street and the sunlight was glimmering off the windshield of a parked car. If we posed right, the lighting would cause dramatic shadows and I could put a black and white filter on it -- and, maybe then, I wouldn’t look like a homeless meth addict. “Come on,” I started to drag Miles across the street. 

I posed the big stupid man, who was evidently hellbent on making this morning a disaster, and the dog and then stepped back, setting the phone on the roof of a Prius with the timer set before stepping back into the fram. “Ok I’m going to pull you down and kiss your cheek, don’t look at the phone.”

Clearly ignoring what I had just said, Miles surprised me by grabbing me around the waist and dipping me back for a deep, earth-shattering kiss. Gordie decided this was another game and jumped around us. The shutter sounded.

“Well, that wasn’t what I planned at all.”

Miles shrugged and grinned, swiped his phone off the car and handed it to me, “What do you think?”

The resulting photo was actually better than what I had planned because it was completely candid. It captured us in a fantastic kiss and all four of Gordie’s feet were off the ground in mid leap. “Oh wow, this is actually pretty good.”

I stuck the inkwell filter on it, adjusted some of the shadows and contrast and handed the phone back to Miles.

“Can I post it?”

I shrugged, “If I say no, are you going to keep taking shitty pictures?”

“Yes.”

“Well, fine then. At least I like this one.” 

Miles stuck his hand through Gordie’s leash again and grabbed my hand, clicking away with the other. Finally, he put the phone in his pocket. “I didn’t tag you or anything. I didn’t think you’d want me too.”

I shrugged “That’s fine. I’d rather not have vitriolic hate messages sent to me first thing in the morning, anyway.”

After Miles posted the photo to his story, we made our way home, walking quietly together, our silence only interrupted by the several soft buzzes of his of his phone through his pocket, which it seemed we were both purposefully ignoring.

I was halfway up the entrance steps when I turned to be face-to-face with Miles, “What if people don’t like you dating? What if fans are upset? Do you have like…. puck bunnies in every city? What about them? What if people don’t like me? Or think I look dumb? Or fat? Or…?” The questions poured out of my mouth one right after the other.

I was eye level with Miles since I was on the higher step and he put his hands on either side of my face and pressed his lips to mine in the middle of another question. Stiffening, I tried to pull away, but he held on to my face and slanted his lips against mine for a deeper kiss and finally I linked my hands around the back of his neck and relaxed into it.

Miles pressed his forehead to mine when he broke the kiss, “I had a few girls I saw, yes. The Instagram thing will probably help me avoid some awkward conversations, but if I have to have them, I will. I don’t give a shit if fans don’t like me dating. I don’t care if they are upset. The only thing I care about is you. You make me happy, that’s what matters.”

“But what if you suck this season and people blame me?”

He through his head back and laughed. “If I have my head so far up my ass that I suck this season, that’s a me problem, not a you problem.”

“But….”

“No more buts… Do you care what other people think?”

I shrugged, choosing my words slowly, “I care that the negativity could put a strain on the relationship. I care that it might make things tough or awkward for you, but I don’t care what people think of me as a person.”

“Ok… then why are we having this conversation?”

I paused… “Because I’m scared.”

“Ok. So this is another version of the same conversation we’ve had five times?”

“Yes.”

“Do we need to have it a sixth?”

I flicked Miles’ ear and cocked my head to the side, “Bitch maybe we do, I have baggage.”

His eyes swirled emerald, “How are the ribs, honey?”

I must have looked confused, “They’re alright. That’s a weird…. AH!”

I didn’t get to finish my question because Miles’ shoulder was bisecting my pelvis and I got an up close view of his upside down ass as he threw me over his back in a Fireman’s carry. 

Gordie jumped and barked like this was the most fun game ever! My latte cup was left forgotten on the step, foam dripping out of the top, as Miles carried me into the house. 


	6. Finale

The Instagram story proved to be innocuous enough that only close friends, family, and Miles’ teammates messaged him. I was sure there was speculation elsewhere, but I didn’t seek it out. Neither did Miles. 

I did spend three of the next four nights at his place and all too soon, the dreaded Sunday dinner was upon us. 

During the past week the weather had given way from steamy August to a mild and pleasant September, but temperatures were expected to hit the 90s again later in the week.

Josh had already called to say he was running an hour late and the entire dinner was put on hold. Typical. The pork roast sat in a warm oven and would probably be dry as a desert by the time my brother arrived. 

My dad was in his recliner, Sunday night football on TV, and he was engaged with Miles and Mac in spirited debate about quarterbacks. Regardless of what came of Luci’s and my relationships with these hockey players, Dad was absolutely living his best life at the moment. 

Mom had been fretting nonstop about the dinner since early this morning and accordingly, had spent the entire day cleaning and cooking, which meant I had spent the entire day helping her clean and cook, change the tablecloth and placemats twice, and set the table only to reset it with the “good plates” etc. 

I was exhausted and sore and all I wanted to do was curl into Miles far, far away from any other person and nap.

Luci had taken over being Mom’s dinner party assistant when she arrived, after Mom declared the pants Luci was wearing made her hips look too wide, which gave me time to throw on some jeans, a soft cardigan and a more natural makeup look to complete my Stepford Wife ensemble, and Miles had done a triple take when he arrived. 

To his credit, he was trying really hard to be genuine and open with my dad, but my dad had the opposite energy of my mother. Dad’s aura seemed to put people at ease; Miles had given me pointedly startled look when my dad had asked him intelligent and engaging questions about the upcoming season. 

I had even seen Granny L floating around in my peripheral vision. I really hoped she wasn’t planning on some grand entrance. 

When Josh and Jill finally arrived (separately but at the same time, which happened frequently due to their weird twin mojo), Miles’ mask slid into place and honestly, I didn’t blame him. My family was… a lot... and part of me wanted to to run upstairs to throw on some high waisted sailor pants and winged eyeliner, but instead, I just grasped at his hand like it was my lifeline. Watching Miles’ persona change as he looked at me and then to other people was fascinating, and I hadn't even realized we had all sat down at the table and served ourselves. 

“Honestly, Jenny can you stop staring at your boyfriend for like, one second?” Josh sounded irritated, like the five seconds it would take him to rephrase the question would make him late to surgery.

Miles squeezed my thigh under the table, “I’m sorry Joshy, what did you say?”

“I asked how you’re doing? You should really come into the office for another set of x-rays to make sure the micro fractures healed or are healing properly.”

“Head is fine, ribs are fine, Josh. The rest of me is fine too. Miles did a good job playing nursemaid, since the rest of you couldn’t be bothered.”

“Jennifer Louise!” My mom dropped her fork on her plate, “Is that any way to speak to your brother? Who, I might remind you, made time in his busy day to give you free xrays and make sure you were all right after you little accident?”

Miles’ grip on my thigh tightened and his lips flattened. He suddenly found the dry pork roast extremely interesting and pushed some around on his plate. 

I sighed, “Sorry, Joshy.”

Josh just grunted and the next 20 minutes were spent listening to mom regale us, her captive audience, with the tale of her Canadian adventure.

Mac’s face looked pained and I was 75% sure it was my mother, but there was a decent 25% chance he was just really constipated due to the dry pot roast.

When she was done, I was once again put in the spotlight. “Jennifer, I’ve managed to catch up with Joshua and Jillian this week, but even living under my own roof, I have no idea what’s been going on with you. You’ve been spending so much time with Miles. You got some credit card offers in the mail.” She reached behind her and snagged a pile of mail off the counter, “This one has a good interest rate.”

Miles’ eyes narrowed, but thankfully, he was in the middle of swallowing a dry piece of pork.

“I, um, actually already have a credit card, mom.”

“Well, then you should open one for your little photography business.”

I sighed, “I have one for that, too.”

She just looked at me like she made her point, “See, I don’t even know what is going on in your life.”

“Um, well, actually, the Devils asked me to fill in for one of their media content people who went on maternity leave. So, I will be doing a lot of the NHL media content for them and even photographing practices and games and stuff.”

Miles looked at me surprised because I hadn’t gotten the chance to tell him. 

My mother pursed her lips, “Oh… that’s nice. You know, Joshua just bought another investment property isn’t that wonderful? And Jillian is getting a company car with her promotion to youngest partner at her law firm!”

I put my hand on Miles’ knee under the table. He was gripping his fork so tightly his knuckles started turning white.

Mac and Miles were caught in some sort of hockey teammate silent communication when Luci spoke up, “Actually, Mom, Jen working with the Devils is a pretty big deal. Mac let her know he overheard some people talking after practice and she sent in her work from the fundraiser and they didn’t even interview anyone else.”

“Well, isn’t that nice? Jennifer, what would you do without your sister and her boyfriend looking out for you?”

That was the end of Miles’ patience. His eyes darkened angrily to a stormy blue; I’d never seen them like this before. I imagined this what other players saw before he fought them. His fork clattered to his plate, “Are all your family dinners like this?”

Luci seemed to shrink in her chair and Mac put an arm around her shoulders. Josh and Jill kept chewing on their dry meat and a flush crawled up my mother’s neck. My dad just sighed and pushed back from the table mumbling something about getting another beer. 

No one answered. “I really hope this is just some weird family dynamic in an attempt to run me off, because I have literally listened you to put Jen down at every single opportunity.”

My mother’s face resembled a roasted tomato, “Well, I never. How dare you? I appreciate all of my children’s accomplishments equally.”

The candlestick closest to my mother seemed to fall off the table for no reason. An ember landed on her linen pants and started to smoke before she quickly tamped it out with her napkin. Luci, emboldened by Mac’s arm around her, just smirked. “It seems like Granny L thinks you’re a liar, mom.”

“Jennifer, do you have anything to say for yourself?”

I opened my mouth to say something -- what, I had no idea, but something to diffuse the situation-- but Miles beat me to it, “Actually, she does, she’s moving in with me.”

Mac’s eyebrows disappeared somewhere in the vicinity of his hairline, Luci’s eyes were the size of saucers, Josh and Jill were now on their respective phones, and I just gaped at Miles. Dad hadn’t come back yet, and I imagined he was finishing up the football game on a little black and white portable television he hid in the garage.

Finally, Luci kicked me under the table and I found my voice. “Actually, Miles and I need to have a conversation outside.” I grabbed his hand and somehow pulled 200lbs of muscled hockey player out of his chair and toward the garage. I needed Dad’s TV to drown out the imminent whispered argument from the nosy nellies, namely my mother and Luci, who would try to listen in. I don’t really think Josh or Jill cared.

Dad looked disgruntled when I shoved Miles through the door and I shot him an apologetic look, “Sorry, Dad. Also, turn up your TV.”

I rounded on Miles, whisper yelling, “WHAT THE FUCK?”

“Language,” Dad grunted.

Miles looked shocked, “Are you serious right now? I thought you had dated some douche that seriously messed you up and that’s where all your walls came from, but now I can see that they came from your own damn family.”

It was my turn to look shocked, “But they’re my family, Miles. I love them.”

“Really? Because they sure as hell don’t seem to love you. Your mom literally put you down like 5 times in the span of 30 minutes and you’ve lived your entire life like that. Josh and Jill can’t be fucking bothered to give a damn about anyone but themselves. You’ve probably spent your entire life protecting Luci and she’s the only one you have a semi-normal relationship with, but since we’re talking about it, I would like to mention that I do think it’s super weird that you know a surprising amount of detail about Mac’s penis. Just saying. I don’t even know that much and I see him naked every day.”

My dad coughed.

I put one hand on my hip and used the other to gesture dramatically, “Um, sisters talk.”

Miles threw his hands up in the air, “Does that mean Luci knows every single detail about my penis?”

I frowned, “No. I mean, some. If you must know, we’re both convinced hockey players just have massive dicks but that’s a topic for another day. Quit trying to change the subject.”

My dad choked this time before he coughed. 

Sighing, I dropped my arms, “You can’t just make decisions for me, Miles.”

Miles put his hands on my shoulders, “You can’t stay here, Jen. It’s toxic as hell and if you want your own place, fine. We will find someplace with a month to month or I’ll buy you an apartment. Whatever you want. Anything. But I’m not leaving you here.” 

Silenced stretched between us before my dad cleared his throat, “You should move in with him.”

We both turned toward him, “What?”

“He’s right. You’ve never been equal in your mother’s eyes, and I doubt anything could ever beat the miracle twins. I saw it happening-- I thought you were kids, you’d grow out of it, but you were never like Josh and Jill, honey. While they were playing doctor and lawyer, you were looking at the trees. You were watching sunsets. Instead of playing with your siblings, you were drawing or observing the world. When Luci came along, I thought it would be fine, you’d have a sibling you would relate to, but instead, you became her protector. Again, I figured you were kids, you’d all grow out of it. But I was wrong, and I should have done something. Soon, it was too late and in spite of it all, you found something you love to do, and you became secure in your own skin. I mean, I’m still not sure about all the tattoos and stuff. But Miles is right. You need to get out, because your mom isn’t going to change. To your grandmother’s credit, once George died, Lucille seemed to have a come-to-Jesus and she tried her darndest before she passed to undo everything she did, but it was too little too late. I thought maybe your mother would see that, and take it to heart. But, sometimes old dogs won’t learn new tricks. So much about parenting is realizing you’re too late.”

My jaw dropped somewhere in the middle of all of this because, unless Dad was talking about sports, I’d never heard him string that many words together in my entire life.

Luci opened the door and peeked her head around; comically, Mac’s head popped around the door above hers, “Everything ok?”

I nodded affirmatively at the same time Dad and Miles spoke a resounding “No” in unison.

I sighed, “Dad and Miles think I should move in with Miles.” 

Luci gave our father a slightly shocked look, “I think it’s time you left Mom and Dad’s, but you should do what you need to do for you.”

Miles narrowed his eyes at Luci and Mac narrowed his eyes at Miles and overall, there was just a lot of eye narrowing and nostril flaring and all around male posturing. I shook my head slowly; “Boys,” I thought to myself.

I wanted to crawl into a hole and never be heard from again, because this was way too much attention on me. “I think I’m going to take Gordie for a walk.”

My sister rushed into action, “You know what, I’ll walk Deke too. Hey Miles, would you mind driving Mac home so I can take his car later?” She didn’t wait for an answer before smiling at him pointedly and following it with, “Omigosh, thanks you’re a lifesaver.”

Before I knew what was happening, she hustled me out of the house and we were walking around the block with the greyhounds. 

Luci knew how I operated and it was several minutes that we walked in complete silence, pausing when the dogs wanted to sniff something interesting, which was pretty much everything. When I finally spoke, they were sniffing a tree that probably had most of the homeless population of Hoboken “watering” it, huffing at the trunk like they were 7th graders trying to get high on glue.

Finally I broke, “So what the fuck just happened?”

“Well… Mom was being overly critical of you, as usual, Josh and Jill were doing their thing, as usual, Dad avoided any conflict, as usual, and much to everyone’s surprise, in a break from the usual programming, Miles really hauled Mom’s ass on the carpet for being shitty to you.”

“Well, cool, glad to know I’m not hallucinating.” I joked lamely. I knew Luci saw right through me and was just humoring me before she rounded in on me.

Luci pulled Deke away from the tree and continued walking, “Is there any particular reason you have an aversion to moving in with Miles?”

“Uh, yes, crazy pants. It’s been like 3 weeks. That’s insane. Shit like that should only happen in movies. What do I really know about Miles?”

“Other than having his Wikipedia page memorized, you know that he is absolutely crazy about you. I feel like that’s a really dumb question from my big sister, who is usually pretty smart.”

I groaned, “Luci, it’s so fast.”

“Um, you moved in with that loser stoner guy in college after, like, 24 hours.”

“First of all… I was 20, and he was hot. And second of all, you’re proving my point.”

“No, I’m not. That guy isn’t Miles-- that guy was not in love with you. And three weeks is different than 24 hours after meeting him at some tattoo convention or whatever. AND Miles took care of you when you were injured. AND you’re basically already living with him, considering you’ve spent the majority of your nights with him ANYWAY since Mom and Dad have been back,. So give me a good reason why you shouldn’t move in with him.”

Fuck. I hated when my little sister was right. 

Luci responded to my silence with, “Yeah. I know I’m right.”

I really had nothing else to say, so instead, I went with, “Stop reading my mind, you freak.”

As we rounded the last corner of the block for home, I saw Miles and Mac in the distance, waiting for us. Their eyes stayed on us until we reached the driveway. Luci snagged Mac’s hand and gave Miles a jaunty “You’re welcome” look.

Mac gave me a pat on the head, “Everything ok?”

I nodded, “Probably. I’ll see you guys later this week for dinner?”

The big goalie grinned, “Yeah, my treat.”

“MacAttack, you make like 40x what I make. Plus, with the amount of food you hockey boys consume, I can’t afford to keep you fed. It’s always your treat, dude.”

Mac loaded Deke in to the car and shut the door and gave me a wink, “It’s only because eventually you’ll be giving us a deep discount on wedding photos.”

Luci groaned from the front seat, “Get in the fucking car, you crazy oafman.”

Suddenly, I was left alone with Miles as they backed out of the driveway and disappeared.

“Everything ok?”

I nodded.

“So, what’s the plan?”

I offered a shrug, “I guess I pack a bag and we find some place for my stuff, or I put it in storage.”

Miles’ smile about split his face in half, “Seriously?”

“I mean, yeah.”

He hooked a finger through the belt loop on my jeans and tugged me into his body, bending in for a chaste kiss.

I put a hand on his chest, “Why don’t you take Gordie and I’ll pack up some stuff and see you at home?”

A frown flickered across his features, “What? No. I’m not leaving you here.”

“Miles…” I started.

“No,” he said simply. “I’m your wall, remember?”

Sighing, I nodded, “Ok, just try not to fight anyone in my family.”

Miles sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. I think he was trying to buy time. Or be intentionally adorable to distract me.

“Miles.”

“I’m not making a promise I don’t know if I can keep.”

“Oh, this is going to be fun.” I said sarcastically. “ Ok, Let’s get this over with.”

One of my mom’s favorite weapons in her arsenal was the silent treatment, which I was apparently getting. Everyone else had skedaddled long before so it was just me, rolling a giant suitcase down the stairs, trying not to jostle it too much.

“Christ, did you fit everything you own into that, Jen?” Miles rushed up the stairs and his eyes bugged when he picked up the case.

“That’s just my photography stuff. But, it’s like super expensive lenses and camera bodies, so be gentle, please.”

Miles rolled his eyes, “Says the woman who was just bumping it down the stairs.”

“Miles… don’t start with me right now, please?” My voice was soft. 

His eyes met mine and he nodded his head slowly, “you’re right. I’m sorry. Habit. I’m going to put this in my car and I’ll be back ok?”

30 minutes later, Miles and I pulled into his garage and parked in our respective spots. It was ridiculous: I was driving a car he bought me that had its own spot in his garage. The whole scenario just felt too surreal. I must have zoned out because Miles was standing by my door and tapped on my window.

“Hey, everything ok?”

“Yeah, it’s just a lot to process and I’m still not used to us, you know? Now there’s this added element.” My chest felt tight, and I could feel the impulse to start putting the wall back in place, to start boxing Miles out and a small part of me hated myself for it.

“Yeah. It’s gonna be fine. I promise.”

“Miles, this time last year, I was cursing you through preseason because you can’t stay on your skates to save your damn life and now we’re living together.”

“Hey….” He brought his hand up to my face, gently cupping my chin in his large palm. As his eyes met mine, he smiled and said “I’m going to ignore that thinly veiled personal attack on my athletic prowess considering the stress you’re under at the moment but please know you’ll pay for that later.”

I couldn’t help but smile back at him. “Don’t even try, you know it’s true.”

“Come on...let’s unpack your stuff. There’s still ice cream in the freezer from when you were here.”

I snorted like the lady I am, and rolled my eyes. “No there isn’t, I ate it all.”

“Well, maybe I noticed and bought you more.”

Miles wrapped a hand around my bicep and pulled me out of the BMW and opened the hatch for Gordie. 

Miles intertwined his fingers in mine, and as Gordie led the way, we followed the dog into the house, our house, hauling all of my stuff.

“Hey,” Miles said suddenly, “who was the old lady walking with you and Luci?”

I stopped and turned to look at him, “Luci and I were alone.”

He shook his head at me, curiosity apparent in his eyes. “No you weren’t. There was an old lady walking between the two of you when you came around the corner of the block.”

I gasped and then groaned. “Did she look exactly like Luci but old?”

“I don’t know, it was too far away. But then she was just gone, so I thought she was a neighbor or whatever.”

“Miles, I do believe you’ve had a Granny L sighting.” 

“Huh, cool. Can you hurry up? Your shit weighs 5000lbs.”

I continued up the stairs to the door that let us into the kitchen, “Cool? You literally saw a visual apparition and all you have to say is ‘cool?”

Miles set my suitcases down inside the doorway, “Honestly, I thought it was cooler when she was making stuff fly around my room.”

I grumbled, “Well, the next time we chat, I’ll be sure to tell her that. But I really hope she didn’t hear that. She’s like Beetlejuice. You say her name three times and she shows up out whatever limbo plane of existence she’s in when she’s not here. Do you know she can become corporeal enough to, like, push buttons? I had to figure out the child locks on the Beamer in record time.”

“Huh.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“I mean, it’s kind of like having a toddler.” Miles grinned at me widely. “It will be good practice for when we have kids.”

The suitcase I was holding fell out of my grip and started rolling across the floor and I may or may not have screeched out loud. “Excuse you, for when we what?”

Miles opened his mouth and I held up one finger, “No.”

He took a breath to speak, and I repeated myself, “No.”

“But…”

“No. I will take these suitcases, get in that fancy car you bought me, trade it at the Mexican border for some burros and you will never ever see me again.”

“But…”

“It has been 3 weeks. I am moving in with you because I think that’s probably the safest way to make everyone happy and for you not to murder half my family.”

Miles pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge, “You make it sound like I’m blackmailing you into moving in with me. I told you we can get you an apartment if you want. And plus, Jen, our kids will be so cute. Think about their teeny tiny hockey skates.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, “Can we not have this conversation right now? Dinner was awful, you have your first preseason game in like a week, and I just really want to unpack some of this stuff and cuddle on the couch while I emote my way through a pint of Ben and Jerry’s.”

Miles put his bottle on the counter and wrapped his hands around my hips, pulling me into a big rib-crushing hug before he kissed my forehead, “Yes, we can table all discussions about future things. But not about our kids playing hockey. They will definitely play hockey.”

Sighing and choosing not to retort, I leaned into his body. As I hooked my fingers through the belt loops on his jeans, I murmured a soft “thank you.”

We stood like that for a few minutes before he spoke again, “How do you feel about maybe talking to someone about your mom?”

“Luci and I talk about her all the time.”

“No, I mean like a professional.”

“You want me to see a shrink? Do you think I’m crazy?” I pulled away from him. It was one thing for me to call myself crazy, and another for me to call my mother crazy, but one thing you never do is call someone else or their mom crazy. Duh.

“No.” Miles looked at me, eyes colored with understanding and something else- sympathy? Empathy? Whatever it was, I was feeling both intimidated and impressed by Miles’ emotional maturity and was momentarily speechless. Here I was, thinking he had all of four feelings: sleepy, hungry, horny, and hockey. Guess I was wrong on that one.

He continued, “I think you grew up with an emotionally manipulative mother, two older siblings who steamrolled you and a father that saw all of this happening and didn’t do anything about it. You took on the brunt of ALL of that so Luci wouldn’t have to and I think that is the ONLY reason she is so normal. That’s a lot to ask a person to handle, and no one asked you to, but you handled it. I think you should talk to someone about it, it might help.”

I sighed and wrapped my arms around him again, “You’re probably right. But maybe we talk about that in a week, after things have settled down a bit?”

Miles nodded and kissed the top of my head again. He pulled away, grabbing the handles on my suitcases, and starting up the stairs like a kid on Christmas morning “Let’s get some stuff put away, huh?”

His house looked like a tornado had gone through it, as usual, but in his bedroom, there were a bunch of storage bins. “Miles, what are you doing?”

“I started making room for you a few days ago. I’m gonna put some of my stuff in one of the rooms upstairs.”

“Are you serious? You started doing that days ago?”

“Well, yeah,” he looked at me quizzically, like I was missing something entirely obvious, or like I told him that I was actually a flat-earther or believe aliens walk among us. “On the off chance I convinced you to move in with me, I wanted you to have a place to put your stuff in here.”

There are many reasons every day I’m grateful Miles is a professional athlete; today, one of them included the way he managed to catch me in midair and take us semi-gracefully down onto the bed when I jumped at him from a dead run across the room.

Miles managed to twist our bodies so I landed on top of him and I started kissing all over his face, trying to get a sentence out in between kisses. “I freaking love you, Miles Wood.”

That’s when my 6’2” 200lb boyfriend *giggled.* “I love you too, but this is not unpacking and this is definitely not going to end with you on the couch eating ice cream.”

I sighed, “I mean, I could eat ice cream here...off of your naked body...maybe you could even have a bite or two if we burn off some calories first”

Before I knew it, I was flat on my back with Miles’ emerald eyes boring a hole through my skull. “That is the best thing you’ve said all day.”

\------

In the days following my impromptu move to Miles’, my mom and the twins were giving me the silent treatment, Luci was trying to make up for their feigned ignorance by being even MORE present in my life, and Miles was trying to figure out a way for me to have an in-home studio, though I didn’t really need one. However, he had gotten it into his head that I did and frankly, I was just letting him run with it because it kept him distracted.

Between workouts, practice, team meetings etc, Miles was gone for most of the day, and I had taken to going on long meandering walks with Gordie. Work-wise, photography was always a seasonal thing, with April-September being the busy wedding months. Soon, it would be a smattering of Autumn weddings and, after that, family portraits for Christmas cards, but then things would lull. I was glad to have picked up the part time gig with the Devils and I hoped it would turn into a regular thing. 

House Hunters droned on in the background while I sat on the couch and edited the most recent wedding. With Miles being gone and without my nosy busybody mother, my editing was a lot faster and easier; Without 1000 interruptions, I was almost surprised about how much work I managed to get done. Even Granny L had been keeping to herself. No sooner had that thought crossed my mind, though, had she then, like Beetlejuice, suddenly appeared and the TV turned off.

**I’m glad you finally came to your senses.**

I sighed and closed the laptop, setting it on the couch next to me, “It was either this or Miles was going to fight the entire family.”

**As he should have. That boy has a good head on his shoulders.**

“Since when do you like hockey players, Granny?”

**Since your sister moved in next to that other cute boy. You should see his butt!**

I grimaced, “I really need you to never ever say anything like that ever again, and never ever ever about Miles or Mac.”

Granny just shrugged.  **I’m old and dead, what do I have to lose?**

She had a point. “Why are you here, Granny L?”

**Do I need a reason to pop in and check on my favorite granddaughter?**

“First of all, Luci is your favorite and second of all, yes.”

**Grandparents don’t have favorites. But I will admit, I’m less fond of the twins.**

Sighing, I rolled my eyes, “No one likes Josh and Jill, I don’t even think they have friends. They have competition and that’s it.”

In the middle of my sentence, Miles came in, the garage door rumbling shut as he tossed his keys on the counter. 

He looked at me and then scanned the room, “Hey Granny L.”

I looked back over where she had been but she was gone, “Did you see her again?”

“No, but you were talking and the room is empty so I assumed.”

“It weirds me out that you’re strangely cool about your house being haunted. And by my dead grandmother, no less.”

He shrugged, “It’s better than a security system, honestly. I like knowing your granny’s ghost is watching over you when I’m gone.”

I opened my mouth to answer, but my phone rang. It was an out of state number and I contemplated not answering before Miles snagged it off the coffee table and handed it to me.

“This is Jen.”

“Hey Jen, it’s Lindsey Vonn. I got your number from your sister a couple weeks ago.”

I tried not to hyperventilate and sound like I was losing my shit as much as I actually was losing my shit and remain the calm and cool and non-fan girl professional that I am. “Oh hi, Lindsey, what can I do for you?”

“WELL, This is still pretty hush-hush, but PK and I got engaged and he wants to host a BBQ at our house as, like, a team thing and I was wondering if I could get your services for the evening as well as talk about doing some engagement photos?”

I had no idea what look was on my face, or if Miles could hear Lindsey, but he sat down on the couch facing me, his face concerned.

“Um, I would love to, do you have a date for the event?”

“Why don’t you look at your schedule and get back to me? We’d love to do it before the home opener, but I understand you’re going to be just as busy as the guys in the upcoming weeks.”

I opened and closed my mouth like a fish. Lindsey Vonn was working around MY schedule. Holy god. It took everything I had in me not to clear my schedule for the next year and just tell her to name her time and place. Finally, Miles bugged his eyes at me and waved his hand in a “come on motion.”

“Uh yeah! Is this a good number to text? I’ll look at my schedule and get back to you.”

“Yes, texting is fine! Perfect! I look forward to it. Is there anything else you need to know?”

“Is this a team-only thing, or like, a team family type thing?”

“Family, I’m trying to convince Luci to bring her dog so we can get some of those Greyhounds adopted. She mentioned you have one too! You should bring him.”

I did the fish mouth gape again. It was pretty sexy, I must admit, ‘Ummm yeah sure! I’ll do that. I’m sure I can pawn him off on a child to hold while I work.”

“A little bit of working… but also enjoying yourself, right?”

“Right. Anyway, I will text you when I check my calendar.”

“Cool! Bye!” She hung up. The phone was quiet in my hand and I just stared at the blank screen.

Miles waved a hand in front of my face, “Earth to Jen. I’ve heard you talk to clients before and that was weird. Who was that?”

“Um, Lindsey Vonn?”

“Is that a question?”

“No…. it was Lindsey.”

“Well she obviously wanted to hire you so, like… what’s going on?”

I set my phone back on the table and turned to him, both wanting to tell him and not wanting to spill the beans on their secret, “She and PK are going to host a team BBQ before the season starts and wanted me to take some photos.”

Miles looked ecstatic, “That’s good, right? Like, this is good for business?”

I nodded numbly. 

“Shouldn’t you be more excited?”

“Oh… I’m excited. But also terrified. This is a big deal. Like a huge deal.”

“Well it’s a team thing, so I will be there with you.”

“Do people know we’re dating?”

Miles offered up a one shouldered shrug, “Just Trav, Blacky, couple of the other guys, why?”

“Like, will people think I just got this gig because I’m dating you?”

His eyebrows lifted, “Um, probably not. I’m sure it’s because of the work you did on the calendar for your sister and at the Greyhound event.” 

I picked at a loose thread on the couch, “Do we tell people we’re dating?”

Miles sighed, “You know I’ve been wanting to shout it from the rooftops.”

The thread I was pulling at started to come free, “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore except I’m happy with you. So what do you want to do?”

Miles looked amused, “What I WANT to do will send you running for the hills, so for now, why don’t we order some food for dinner and settle in for a HGTV marathon and make fun of the stupid jobs people have and their budgets?”

I sighed and nodded, “That I can handle. Have I told you I love you yet today?”

Miles put a look of fake shock on his face, “Why Ms. Smith I had no idea! How convenient that I love you as well.”

“Ok, Mr. Darcy. Tone it down. Weirdo.”

An hour later, there was a veritable Indian Feast on the kitchen island. I was stuffing my face with 4 different kinds of curry and watching a House Hunters episode where a kindergarten teacher and college professor were trying to find an apartment in San Francisco for $200,000.

We were both sitting on the floor using the coffee table as dining table instead of the actual dining table because we were heathens.

Miles shoved his hip into me, “So the next couple days are going to be media days. Are you working?”

I nodded my mouth full of rice and lamb curry.

He pushed some food around on his plate, “Do you want to ride together?”

I swallowed, “I mean… I will probably be working long days. You just have to do your little bit but I have to be there for everyone.”

He lifted a shoulder, “So I’ll wait for you or I’ll just catch a ride home with someone else.”

“Are you sure? That’s making a big statement.”

Miles sighed, “I’m sure… but the question is are YOU sure.”

I offered him a weak smile, “You’re my wall, right?”

“Yeah, I’m your wall.” I was still unsure, but Miles’ smile was so big and so bright I was going to let him have this one.

——

When the alarm blared at 6am, I groaned and tried to bury my face deeper into Miles’ chest. It rumbled with a soft chuckle beneath my ear. 

“Come on, Sleeping Beauty. Time to wake up.”

I pulled the covers over my head, my voice muffled by the duvet, “Is it too late to be a kept woman?”

Miles pushed them back down, tucking them under my shoulders, “No, but you’d be bored in like, five minutes.”

“I don’t know. I could be all Mom-like and channel my inner June Cleaver with the dresses and the apron and the pearls.”

He didn’t answer and when I looked up there, was a conflict on Miles’ face. 

“I didn’t realize that was such a big deal.”

Miles took a breath, thinking before he answered, “I don’t want you to be anything like your mom, but I’m also super attracted to the idea of you looking like a 1950s housewife so I’m having an inner struggle about the whole thing.”

It was my turn to chuckle. “Ok, well while you work out your trauma, I’m going to start getting dressed because while you just have to throw on some joggers and call it good, I need to actually get dressed and look a little professional.”

An hour later I was dressed in slacks and a button down shirt with my photography logo embroidered on the breast. My favorite Devils tumbler was filled with coffee and clutched in my hand, and Miles was at the wheel of my BMW.

At a stop light, he reached over and put his hand on my thigh. I liked that, even though these slacks had definitely come from the plus sized section of Macy’s, his fingers reached seam to seam.

“Are you nervous?”

I fiddled with the lid on my coffee mug, “Fuck, yes, I’m nervous. This could be a good gig but if we break up, I’ll have to quit.”

Miles snorted, “We’re not breaking up.”

“Who knows, maybe you’ll lose your roster spot to some upstart rookie.” I raised my eyebrows and gave him a slightly evil grin.

Lips set in a frown, he didn’t return it, shaking his head as he said, “You would be heart broken and you’d have to buy all new merch.”

As much as I wanted to chirp back at him, it was true: literally everything Devils I owned had his name on it. I think part of him really liked that, actually.

When we pulled up to the arena, players and staff were starting to trickle into the parking lot and Miles pulled into a spot next to Mac’s Explorer. Mac waited for me to get out and then hooked me around the neck and kissed the top of my head. “How’s my favorite little sister?”

I tried to swallow a snort and failed. “Dude, I’m like 7 years older than you.”

“Ah, but you will never be bigger than me. Hence, little sister.”

“Ok, Big Mac,” I replied, not even trying to hide the eye roll that followed. 

Miles came up behind me and shoved Mac’s arm off my shoulders, “Will you please stop hitting on my girlfriend? You have your own.”

I snorted and met Miles’ eyes, shaking my head. “Please. He’s not hitting on me. And plus, conversation is not exactly his greatest asset.”

Mac looked at me in mock-horror, almost like he was actually insulted by my jab. “Ow, my feelings,” he wailed, dramatically. Miles snorted, letting out a fake sneeze that sounded suspiciously like “monster cock.”

“Bless you,” I deadpanned at Miles, unamused. Boys. They always go there. At that, Mac looked up, all of a sudden at ease, and pleased with himself — as only a well endowed man could look. I took the opportunity to sneak under Miles’ arm instead, and gave him a pointed look as Mac watched expectantly, “Miles, come on. Like you aren’t packing a wrench yourself?”

Miles gave an exasperated sigh, “I’m sorry, why are we talking about dicks?”

I tickled Miles’ ribs, “I don’t know, you brought it up, weirdo. But I have it on good authority that Mac was afraid YOU were going to steal Luci away from him. There was an episode in an elevator, I was told.”

Mac’s long arm reached around and grabbed Miles’ shoulder pulling us both into him and I was trapped in a sandwich between the two huge men.

“Oh Jen, I know Miles isn’t much of a conversationalist himself, but I would have thought he’d at least try at the beginning. Obviously, I was wrong, since it sounds like you two spend a lot of time talking about my dick….” It was Miles’ turn to look horrified.

I snorted, “Right. I do with my sister. I *know* things, MacKenzie.”

The 6’5” goalie had the audacity to blush. 

“Yeah. I know about the night of seven orgasms.”

Miles squeaked, “Seven?”

Mac just blushed some more with a smile on his face and straightened his shirt collar.

“Seven?” Miles repeated.

I patted Miles’ tummy with my free hand, “Babe, I don’t even think I would survive seven. It’s ok.”

“I thought I was doing pretty damn good with four,” he grumbled. 

Our little trio made our way to the back entrance with Mac in his satisfied silence and Miles still muttering about “Seven orgasms.” I couldn’t have wiped the smile off my face if I tried. 

Inside, we went our separate ways and it became clear to me in about 3 minutes I was way over dressed. However, I am a woman and I definitely had planned for this. I shot off a text to Miles.

_ Hey, I snuck a change of clothes in your hockey bag. _

_ ManCrushMiles: Ya think? _

Miles sent me a selfie of him in my favorite V neck devils shirt. It was tight on purpose and made my cleavage look amazing. On him, it just showed his 4 chest hairs, and honestly, did nothing for his pecs.

I slapped a hand over my mouth before I laughed out loud. 

***

_ I’m gonna be so mad if you stretched it out. _

_ ManCrushMiles: That’s what she said. But bring me a sharpie. I’m gonna sign it. _

Half an hour later, I was in my favorite black vans, high waisted jeans, and the 44 on the back of my shirt now said “Property of: Miles Wood.” My emotions about that were mixed, as my inner cave woman loved it but the independent feminist part of me wanted to smack the self-satisfied grin right off of his face. A third contender wanted to dress in latex and make Miles Wood her bitch. I don’t know where she came from.

Shortly afterwards, I got all of my gear set and then my work began, as most of the team had arrived by that point; Overall, the Devils media day was actually fun. A lot of the guys remembered me from the Greyhound fundraiser, and they apparently felt comfortable enough to joke around as I asked them to pose. 

The only snafu of the day was some inappropriate groping by Hallsy, which may have actually been accidental. His hand grazed my chest as I knelt to fix the hem of his pant leg. 

I was with Mac in full goalie pads when Miles called. “Hey, hotstuff” I answered. I put the phone on speaker for Mac.

“Hot stuff?”

“You heard me.” Mac made a gagging face at me and I smacked his chest, which proved fruitless and just hurt my hand because of his chest protector. His entire body shook with suppressed laughter as I jumped up and down in pain before stuck my stinging hand between my thighs. 

Miles was talking and I gave Mac the finger with my now injured hand. I interrupt him mid-sentence to ask, “Babe, can you repeat that? Mac was being a giant fucking idiot.”

“I said, PK said he and Lindsey were doing dinner with Luci and Mac tonight and wanted to know if we wanted to go.”

Mac looked slightly surprised, “Apparently, this is news to Mac, but knowing Luci, I believe it.” The big goalie shrugged in his pads and it was a little like a mountain settling.

“But apparently he’s in, so sure.”

There was a ruckus on the other end of the phone and Miles fell silent. 

I wondered what exactly was going on - had he dropped the phone? Then, a faint voice came across the speaker, and it did not belong to Miles. “Did you see the fucking tits on that photographer? Man, I just want to grab them and UH.”

Mac and I gave each panicked looks before he took off. Somehow, in full goalie pads AND skates, he was still faster than me in sneakers at a flat out run— I blamed his stupid long legs. I followed him through the tunnels of Prudential Center, and surprisingly, no one stopped us, but when 6’7” of goalie in full pads and skates is barreling at you like a linebacker, no one asks questions.

By the time we got to the locker room, the fray had spilled into the hall. There was lots of shouting, and it seemed that the whole room was vibrating with testosterone. I couldn’t see Mac until the sea of men parted and I realized he was pulling Miles off of an irate Taylor Hall, who was sprawled out on the floor shouting profanities and bleeding profusely from his lip. It literally look like Mac picked up Miles, twisted around and deposited him in front of me, but Miles was over 200lbs, so there was no way I saw that accurately. 

“What the fuck, man!?” Taylor lisped as his lip was starting to swell.

Miles’ face was twisted in fury and he turned, shielding me with his body, “that’s my fucking girlfriend, asshole.”

Taylor looked shocked for a moment, and then his eyes narrowed, “Are we getting our girlfriends jobs with the organization now? Is that a thing?”

Mac had been a silent sentry standing between Hallsy, who had scrambled to his feet, and Miles. It was now Mac’s turn to get angry, as he gave Taylor a shove before stating, “Actually, that was me. And I didn’t ask, I just showed them her work from the Greyhounds event. She got the job on her own merit.”

All of a sudden, PK came out of the locker room fully dressed in street clothes, looking like he was about to step on a red carpet, “Dude, she’s incredible. Lindsey hired her to take some photos of our dogs and no one can make those idiots sit still, but for her? They were angels. She has a gift.” He came over to me and held out his arm like the gentleman he was, “Let’s get your stuff.” He clapped a hand on Miles’ shoulder, “Figure this out.”

I didn’t really know what to say; most of the team was milling around in the hallway in various states of undress and the entire feeling emanating from the scrum was awkwardness and discomfort. Miles grabbed my hand like he was going to pull me out of PK’s grasp and I squeezed it. “I’m ok. Figure this out,” I repeated.

He dropped my fingers and I watched as he changed his face from twisted fury to something a little less angry, and I turned and threaded my arm through PK’s, “Let’s go, dapper man.”

Our walk back to the media area was longer than the frantic run from before, PK content to wander at my pace, which was slow, to let me catch my breath. He patted my hand and smiled sympathetically, “Girl, you need to start working out.”

I gave a breathless chuckle, “Trust me, dude, I know.”

“I’m sure Lindsey would help you.”

A wry laugh escaped before I could stop it, “I don’t know if I want to work out with an Olympian, PK.”

“Aw, she’d take it easy on you for at least a week.”

I knew he was trying to distract me, but it wasn’t working. We fell into silence as we wandered the halls of the arena. “They’ll be ok, right? The team?”

He patted the hand that was still resting on his arm, “They will be fine. I promise you. They’re just young.”

For some reason, I believed him. 

——

I ended up taking the car home, leaving Miles to fend for himself. It was late when I finally heard the front door open from the couch, where I was looking at the photos I had taken that day. Miles dropped a kiss on the top of my head before swinging his body over the back of the couch and plopping next to me on the cushions. “Is everything ok?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah,” he replied, “A bunch of us went to dinner and had some impromptu team bonding time.”

I traced my finger on the track pad of my laptop, watching the mouse do a swirl on the screen, almost not wanting to ask the question that I was dying to ask. Finally, I spit it out, “Are you and Hall ok?”

“Hit save, babe.”

I hit save and he closed my laptop and set it on the coffee table, as he nodded, “We will be fine.”

I took a deep breath and looked off over his shoulder, not wanting to meet his eyes, as I said slowly, “You know, I’ve been thinking…” 

Miles put a finger over my lips and then pulled me into his body, wrapping his arms around me - I think he was attempting to comfort me, but part of me also felt like he was trying to prevent my escape. “Is whatever you’re about to say about breaking up or not wanting to come between the team, or whatever other fucked up bullshit you’ve cooked in your brain while you’ve been sitting here alone thinking?”

I nodded.

He sighed and hugged me tighter into his body, “Cool, I don’t care and I don’t want to hear it.”

I opened my mouth to protest and he cut me off, “No.”

“but.”

“No. Keep your fucked up thoughts to yourself, Jen. I’m tired and I don’t want to hear whatever nonsense conclusion you’ve come to in your head about how we should break up.”

I frowned and he continued, “The result is going to be the same regardless of if we have the conversation or if we don’t. Tonight, we are going to bed together, I’m gonna fuck you until you don’t have the energy to argue with me and honestly, I’d like to skip the conversation and just get right to the fucking.”

All my excuses and breakup speeches fizzled into nothing like cotton candy in water.

\------------

Preseason did not go smoothly. Expectations for the Devils were high with the acquisitions of Jack Hughes, PK Subban, and Wayne Simmonds. Regardless of the outcome, the minute Miles spotted me on the ice or he walked through the door at night, he was only smiles. 

I don’t know what happened between Taylor and Miles. He didn’t keep it from me, but when I asked he said it was a “Team thing.” Hallsy gave me a wide berth after the incident, though, and was cordial enough when we worked together; I didn’t put a whole lot of stock in it, other than assuming he didn’t want another punch to the face.

Miles and I settled into comfortable domesticity. My mom was still giving me the silent treatment and I hadn’t heard from Jill or Josh. It was probable that they were lending their solidarity to Mom through their silence towards me. Which is totally logical and makes perfect sense. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that if I didn’t initiate contact with them, I wouldn’t hear from them at all, unlike Luci who would send me some sort of ridiculous joke, meme, or gif every morning. It was our ritual. 

Something else happened, though; the more time I spent away from my family, the more I felt lighter. It was hard not to: Miles, Mac, PK, and a bunch of the other team showered praise upon me. I got to know everybody a bit better, and started to feel like I had found my place in the family that was the Devils organization. I kept shooting, and started seeing my work appear all over social media, which felt a bit unreal at first. I almost felt bad for their media team, as every memory card I turned in at the end of the game nights I worked had a ridiculous number of Miles closeup photos on them.

The marrieds had already booked me to do their Christmas card shoots. I had something that felt a lot like confidence. Confidence in myself, confidence in my work, and confidence in my relationship-- of all things— but I owed that entirely to Miles. He was my wall and he showed up every day in every way to be that for me. 

My personal style, however, went through a bit of an existential crisis, as my entire identity was built to protect myself and all of a sudden, I had to discover who I was without MY mask. 

“Babe, come on we’re going to be late.”

Miles voice filtered into my consciousness, interrupting the inner dialogue I was having, sitting on the floor of the walk-in closet.

“Jen, what are you doing?”

“I don’t know what to wear.”

A wolfish smile spread across Miles’ face, “You know what my favorite outfit is.”

I gave him an exasperated look, “I’m not going to PK and Lindsey’s party naked. You would literally fight any man that looked at me.”

He shrugged, “Probably true. I thought you had decided on your outfit yesterday?”

“I don’t want to wear it now, it doesn’t match my mood. I don’t know what to wear, I don’t know who I am today.”

Miles sighed and sat down on the floor next to me and opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off, “If you say any thing with 44 or your name on it, I WILL punch you.”

He smartly closed his mouth, stopping to think before he tried speaking again, “What if I choose an outfit for you?”

“No offense, but you’re no PK.”

“None taken, dude is dapper as hell. But come on, let me! If you don’t like it, we’re just right back here so what’s the risk?”

“I don’t know.”

“And plus, I have style, you like that burgundy suit.”

I did like the burgundy suit. The pants did fabulous things to his ass and package.

I sighed and Miles pulled me up off the floor and shoved me out of the closet before closing the door in my face, “Hey!” 

The sound of his voice was muffled, “JUST TRUST ME.”

I sat on the bed with a sigh and picked at a hangnail. Just trust him. Easy Peasy Lemon Squeezy. I could do that. It didn’t feel AT ALL like jumping out of a plane without a parachute and falling toward my certain death. 

Miles’ voice came through the door again, “Stop being dramatic.”

How did he KNOW?

Thirty minutes later, we were in Miles’ Range Rover, I was wearing a thin off-the-shoulder maroon sweater paired with fashionably ripped boyfriend jeans. It was comfortable, and even I had to admit I didn’t look half bad. Recently, I’d even been thinking about letting my hair grow out to its natural color, though to be honest, I didn’t even know what that would be-- I had been dying it black for so long. Not ready to entirely abandon my aesthetic, though, I had done a full face of makeup complete with the eyeliner. But, my casual outfit softened it a bit.

For the last several weeks, New Jersey had been yo-yoing between autumn and summer. For PK and Lindsey’s season-starting BBQ, it landed somewhere in the middle: a balmy 75 degrees, with the promise of a crisp evening.

I was scrolling through Instagram when Miles took one of his hands off the wheel and grabbed my phone, dumping it in the cupholder.

“Hey!” 

Without any type of preface, he started, “I did good, right? Cause I think I did good. You look hot. Are you ok? Are you nervous? Luci will be there, so it will be fine, right?”

My eyebrows were somewhere around my hairline at this point. “Gee, are YOU nervous?”

He took a deep breath, “I just really don’t want to punch Hallsy again.”

“So you put me in a slinky sweater and made me look hot? I’m not following your logic, Wood.”

“No. I mean. You could be dressed in a burlap sack and look hot. It’s a state of being, not how you dress.”

“Miles, you’re not making sense. Are you nervous?”

He took another breath, “A little.”

“Excellent, that makes two of us. But you’re supposed to be my wall-- why are you nervous?”

“Because Hallsy is an excellent skater but kind of a dick.”

I shrugged, “I still don’t follow. But just let him be a dick?”

“Babe.” That was it. That was the whole sentence.

“What does ‘babe’ mean?”

He wove his fingers through mine, and I stared at his profile.

“It means ‘babe.’”

“How is that a response to Taylor being a dick?”

We’d reached a stoplight, and it was obvious Miles was antsy, tapping the steering wheel with the fingers of his other hand. “It means, I can’t let him be a dick to my girlfriend.”

“What? Why? What if we just ignore him?”

“Because, I wouldn’t ignore someone being a dick to him on the ice.”

I cocked my head to the side and squinted at him, “And if pigs had wings they could fly. You make no sense. Is this a dude thing?”

His eyes lit up at the thought of escaping this inane conversation, “YES. It’s a dude thing.”

“Cool, so how about instead starting an absurd and cryptic conversation with your girlfriend followed by some quality apelike macho posturing, you say, ‘Dude, Hallsy, it’s not cool to be an asshole to my girlfriend, knock it off?’”

Miles looked at me from the corner of his eye, “I did! That’s what the punch to his face said.”

I squinted at him again, “I will never understand men.”

Miles continued to drive. As we wound through the neighborhood, the surroundings seemed to get more and more upscale: the square footage of each house as well as the distance between them seemed to grow exponentially, until we happened upon a street lined with expensive SUVs and sports cars. 

We found Mac and Luci, accompanied by Deke, standing nonchalantly in the driveway of a large house. Miles stopped and rolled down my window, “Hey guys, what’s up?”

Mac bent in half at the waist to peer into the car, “Luce refused to go in until you guys got here. Something about size 4s and bottle blondes.”

I understood perfectly, while the two big men just looked perplexed. I undid my seatbelt and hopped out of the SUV, grabbing Gordie and his leash out of the back seat, “Go park,” I told Miles. “I’m gonna stay here with Mac and Luci.”

I linked arms with my sister, and meeting her eyes, stated “We’re gonna be the only bitches in there larger than a size 4.”

“Yup.” Luci’s lip gloss prevented her from popping her P as much as she wanted to.

“We can handle this together, right?”

“Yup.”

Mac draped his long arm across the back of both of our shoulders, “Honestly, I have no idea what the heck you are talking about. You’re both gorgeous. You even make me look good by association”

As Luci blushed, I snorted, “Oh, MacKenzie. you innocent child.”

Miles strolled up and pushed Mac’s giant paw off my shoulder in order to hook his arm around my neck. As he looked at Mac over my head, he asked, “Are they freaking out about some imaginary thing?”

Mac’s eyebrows hit his hairline, and he just shrugged his mountainous shoulders, as he knew better than to fall on that grenade.

Luci smacked the back of Miles’ head, and his token grin stretched across his face as he declared, “the only woman who could possibly be hotter than you two is Lindsey, and we have to think that… she’s the hostess.”

Luci and I looked at each other and shrugged. We could handle our boyfriends thinking Lindsey Vonn was hot. She WAS hot.

So, our little group headed toward the front door, the dogs peeing on a bowl of petunias by the garage. Whoops, I thought to myself, Sorry, Lindsey.

In the end, we were indeed the largest ladies in attendance, but everyone was super nice. To everyone’s surprise (and my faux surprise-- I made a point of reacting, regardless), Lindsey and PK announced their engagement. I took photos (THE EMERALD!) and as the afternoon faded into evening, I took advantage of a beautiful hazy golden hour and stole the host and hostess for some photos of them in the woods behind the house-- with the Vonn Dogs, of course.

It was hard not to like most of the better halves. Lexi Carrick was a delight, Lindsey was the perfect hostess and Luci, well, it’s hard not to like my little sister.

And so the Smith girls survived an NHL get together.

———

The start of the season was less than ideal, but somehow things only got better in the Smith/Wood household. I now had a studio (that I would probably never use), complete with office space (that I did use) with a beautiful new desk that overlooked the street and the New Jersey skyline. I was moving up the ranks with the Devils as fill-in photographer, and because everything in my life was coming up aces, I started to travel more with the team-- conveniently right as my seasonal business trailed off. It was hard watching the team lose, but Mac became the starter, Miles was putting up decent points (and making an effort to stay on his skates), Lindsey and PK’s photos came out beautifully (but I mean, how could they not, they’re such a power couple) and Luci stayed a constant in my life while I continued to get the silent treatment from my mom and the twins.

It wasn’t until November that I heard from my mother. Miles and I were watching a movie on a night off during a homestead. He was reclining against the arm of the couch and I was between his legs reclining against his bare torso. I have no idea how or why that became our preferred way position to snuggle up and watch TV, but it had. 

My phone was face down on the coffee table when it started to vibrate. Miles reached his long arm out and snatched it up, like he usually did-- only this time, unlike normal, I felt him tense behind me, and he answered it.

“Jen’s phone.”

I twisted between his legs and gave him a curious look. He hit the speaker button, but there was only silence on the other side. His brows knit together, and an atypical and uncharacteristic frown spread across his face.

I grabbed at his wrist and turned the phone face toward me so I could read who was calling, but I shouldn’t have bothered. It read “Mom,” and there was the telltale click of her hanging up. 

I sighed and face planted into Miles’ bare chest, my words muffled by his impressive pectorals. Mumbling into his chest, I commented, “Maybe we just don’t answer when she calls anymore.”

He sank his fingers into my hair-- which was currently a dark mahogany color-- and the pads of his fingers pressed into my skull as he massaged my scalp. I resisted the urge to moan or purr like a cat.

My mug of chamomile tea slid precariously close to the edge of the coffee table, seemingly of its own accord.

Miles’ chest rumbled under my ear in what sounded like a murmured, “Thanks, Granny L”

In the hours that followed, my mom tried to call several more times, the family group text blew up, and Josh and Jill both tried texting and calling, but I ignored all of it. They had given me the silent treatment for close to two months now, and I wasn’t going to forgive and forget so easily.

Finally, they sent Luci on the contact mission; I knew this because she called, and she never just called. 

Miles was at an optional morning skate and I was editing photos from the Christmas Card shoots I had been doing for the Devils families. My phone vibrated and it drew me out of the 10,000 yard stare that had been focused on looking out of the huge picture window facing my desk.

I answered the call with a sigh, “No.”

“But…”

“No, Luci.”

“But…”

“They gave me the silent treatment for 2 months and now it’s my turn. Miles actually answered mom’s call the other day and she hung up on him.”

Luci made an irritated sound, “Well, that part of the story was conveniently left out.”

I tapped my fingers on the beautiful black walnut desk Miles said he found at a thrift store, though I had my suspicions about the truth of that statement. It would not surprise me to find out that it was not in fact a $200 steal as he claimed, but instead $2000 handmade piece his mom or sister found. “Well, you know Mom likes to spin stories in her favor.”

Gordie got out of his plush dog bed (he now had one in every room of the house and two in the living room, neither of which he used because he was always on the couch) and put his chin on my thigh. Absentmindedly, I stroked his long head.

“Well, I guess I’ll tell the family I tried.”

“Don’t guilt trip me, Luci, don’t be mom.”

“Shit, I hate that even said that. I’m sorry, Jen.”

I sighed, “It’s fine. I have to make a conscious effort to avoid my own Mom Programming every damn day.”

“It’s scary how easily it pops up, isn’t it?”

“Terrifying.”

There was a clunk downstairs, and I heard Miles close the garage door, “Hey Luce, Miles is back from the optional skate…”

“There was an optional skate?” I heard a scuffle on the other side of the phone, and then Mac’s low voice rumbled, “OPTIONAL MEANS I DON’T HAVE TO GO.”

“Okay Jen, I’m gonna hop off now. My boyfriend is playing video games on the couch INSTEAD OF GOING TO PRACTICE and I gotta go beat him up for it. Chat later.”

The line went dead, and I stared at the phone, amused, as Miles came up the stairs, “Hey, why do you look like something is funny?” he asked.

“Apparently, Mac decided to skip optional skate and thus, Luci just found out there was an optional skate.”

Miles just grinned as he came up behind me, strong fingers gripping my shoulders.

As he massaged my shoulders he continued, innocently, “What was Luci calling about?”

I leaned my head back to look at him, “You know what.”

He bent down and kissed my forehead, just shaking his head before saying, “Babe, I really don’t like your mother.”

Honestly, most of the time neither did I.

——————

The Devils continued their streak of being mediocre at best, and there didn’t seem to be an end in sight.

The team was in Vancouver and I was with them when my mother tried calling again. I was on a bench in the depths of Rogers Arena reorganizing my camera bag when my phone vibrated in my pocket. Since I was in work mode, I didn’t even look at the caller ID before I answered, “This is Jen.”

“Is that how you answer your phone now? ‘This is Jen?’ Really, Jennifer.”

My mother’s tinny voice immediately sparked a migraine deep in my brain. “Hello, Mother. What do you want? I’m working.”

“It’s 7pm.”

“It’s 4pm in Vancouver, which is where I am. Also, this phone call is costing me about $1000 per minute.” It wasn’t, I was now on some sort of team phone plan, but I didn’t bother to tell my mother that.

“What are you doing in Vancouver? How can you afford that?”

I looked up toward the heavens, which, at the moment, was really just a lot of concrete and pipes, perhaps silently beseeching God or whoever might be up there to help me remain composed and not go totally apeshit on my mother on the phone in public, while on the clock. “I’m working for the Devils, remember?” 

“Oh, well it’s nice of them to indulge you, I guess.”

And just like that, I remembered why we weren’t talking, and how my life had been significantly more comfortable since that had started. Blood pressure high and patience low, I snapped back, “Jesus fucking Christ mother, what the fuck do you want?”

“JENNIFER, IS THAT ANY WAY TO TALK TO YOUR MOTHER!” Her tinny voice had become a screech and I could feel the migraine spreading its little tendrils throughout my brain.

“Unless you want to get to the fucking point, yes. I have to go to work.” I angrily pushed the end button, and suddenly, I missed the days of the flip phone. There was something oddly satisfying about a device that allowed you to snap the phone closed to underscore your frustration with the person on whom you had just hung up.

The Devils won on the road and with every win, there was this feeling of “Did they do it? Did they turn the corner?”

\-------------

The next time Mom called, it was after two harsh losses against Pittsburgh and Boston and Miles was in a MOOD but trying not to show it.

We were in our normal evening cuddle position and Miles, to his credit, was tolerating a Hallmark Christmas movie; he was even managing to keep his mouth shut, and only once and while chimed in with minimal chirps.

My phone vibrated on the table, and it was face up so we both saw the caller ID. Miles snatched up the phone and answered, “Unless you’re calling to apologize and tell your daughter you’re in therapy, she’s not interested in talking to you.”

I could hear the pitch and timbre of my mother’s shrill voice, but with the sound of the Best Buy commercial (that was enthusiastically encouraging me to stock up and save at the ass crack on dawn on Black Friday) currently blaring from the television, her tone was all I could hear. I hit mute on the remote.

“First of all, you have two daughters dating players on a professional hockey team, you should know our schedule. Actually, your husband probably knows it by heart, ask him. Jen and I will be in Montreal on Thanksgiving and will be celebrating Thanksgiving with my family on Friday. Maybe we could pencil you in another time.”

Miles hung up and tossed my phone on the coffee table, “Sorry, I probably should have asked you if you had anything to say to her.”

I leaned back against Miles with a sigh, “Nope, I think you covered it.”

His arms came around me and Gordie flopped over into dead dog position between our legs. 

Fifteen minutes later, my phone vibrated again and this time it was Luci calling, “For fuck’s sake” Miles grumbled as he grabbed my phone. Again, he answered it, but put it on speaker this time. “Hey Luci, you have both of us.”

“Oh, perfect! So, Mom called and I decided since I have Thanksgiving off, I’m going to Montreal with you guys! I think we should bring Dad along with us and get him tickets, and Joshy, Jilly, and Mom can have their pity party Thanksgiving alone together.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but Miles beat me to it, “Great, done,” and he hung up.

I twisted my body in his arms to look at him before I snapped, “Hey. You can hang up on my mother but not Luci.”

Keeping his eyes focused on the TV, he said evenly, “Babe, we are watching a movie.”

I couldn’t help the snort that escaped from my mouth. “A movie you didn’t want to watch.” I snatched my phone from him and texted Luci.

_ Someone is cranky after two spankings from Boston and Pittsburgh. _

_ LucilleBall: Tell me about it. I even did the THING to Mac to try and improve his mood. _

_ THE THING! And that didn’t work?! _

_ LucilleBall: Well, of course it did, but he goes back to being mopey the minute the clothes go back on. _

_ Well, I think the solution is obvious then. _

_ LucilleBall: Have you been talking to Mac? That’s what he said. _

I snickered, and Miles snatched the phone out of my hand and put it back on the coffee table.

“You know I love your sister, but she’s interrupting US time.”

I looked at him in mock-horror, “What’s that? Do mine eyes deceive me? You’re upset about her interrupting clothed us time?! Has your grinchy little heart grown three sizes today? Who would have thought.”

He didn’t answer immediately; instead, he fake-pouted, jutting that lower lip out and looking at me with sad eyes. As irritating as this was, he was annoyingly, irresistibly adorable, and I caved. Softly, I said “You’re really into this Hallmark movie, aren’t you?” 

Smiling at me, Miles had the courtesy to respond not with a sassy remark but instead, “Well, is she going to marry the Christmas Tree Farmer or not!?” 

I sighed and relaxed into Miles, one of my hands rubbing circles into Gordie’s chest, and I caught a glimpse of Granny L perched on the arm of the couch. The muscular arms tightened around me, and I knew Miles saw her too.

I doubted if my mother would ever change, but that wasn’t my fight; my fight was to not let her get to me, and letting Miles be my wall.

I smiled to myself, realizing that everything was going to be okay. Everything was okay. I had everything I needed, and then plenty more. Everything was coming up Jen.


End file.
